A Horizon under Winter
by WizardWriting
Summary: After Voldemort's reign of terror reached its end, Harry Potter tries to find his own place within wizarding England. Countering the effects of a new romance, old friends, and broken relationships, building a new world from the ashes of one that had already been destroyed, complications arise which threatens to end the magic in England, once and for all. A Harry/Hermione love story
1. Pieces of a Puzzle

**Part I: After the War**

Chapter 1: Pieces of a Puzzle

He walked down the stone steps and descended into the entrance hall of the ancient castle, the quietness deafening to his ears. It seemed as if with each step he took, his footsteps echoed loudly off of the war-torn walls. His heart felt heavy, almost as if it was tied down to an anchor within the pit of his stomach, as his breathing was deeply uneven. His hands were shaking as sweat coated the back of his neck, while his jet black hair was dotted with rubble, dirt, and grime. His glasses had a crack that ran down the left lenses while his eyes grew heavy in both tiredness and weariness of what was to follow.

Harry passed by the wide-open doors of the Great Hall and saw bodies lying on the cold, stone floor, dead. Haunting images of Remus Lupin, who had a deep gash slashed across his bloodied chest, Tonks, whose left eye had been savagely taken out by Bellatrix Lestrange, Colin Creevey, whose neck had been pillaged by Fenrir Greyback, and Fred Weasley, whose face masked a mix of surprise and pain, clouded the image before him, so much so, that Harry was sure he would collapse in the next moment.

Shaking his head of the horrific, dismembered bodies, Harry spotted Ginny Weasley, her eyes red from shed tears over her dead brother. In fact, the entire Weasley family stood rooted on the spot, huddled around the body of Fred, a member of the family that would never make anyone laugh ever again.

Turning away, Harry walked out of the Hogwarts castle, and basked in the bright sunshine, which almost seemed to mock the deadly scene underneath it. And yet, under the clear, blue skies, Harry felt at ease. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, he spotted someone familiar ahead of him, sitting under a tree, and staring out at the calm waters of the Black Lake.

Making his way over, a thought occurred to Harry that ever since he defeated Voldemort, he had not spotted Hermione. Through all of the congratulations and celebrations that had taken place right after the evil dark wizard fell dead, he had just assumed Hermione was lost in the throng of the well-wishers, which encompassed who Harry considered his family and friends.

A wind swept over the grounds of Hogwarts, ruffling Harry's jet-black hair into an even more unruly mess, while Hermione's brown curls swirled around her face, while the waters of the Black Lake rippled in small waves. The grass crunched under Harry's shoes as he made his way closer and closer to Hermione. He saw that she was hugging her knees against her chest as she leaned back against the trunk of the tree.

Upon approaching Hermione, Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So instead, he sat down next to her as he stretched his legs out in front of him. Together, the pair basked in silence, as Harry was picking away at a hole he had in his jeans.

He felt Hermione turn to look at him. Sighing inwardly, he turned to face her and the two gazed into each other's eyes. He noticed that Hermione's warm, brown eyes had turned to tiny pellets of sadness as he also noted that her face was smeared with a mixture of dirt and blood. Her clothes were ripped in several places while she had a bruised cheek, and a deep scar that ran down the length of her exposed neck.

"Hermione, are you okay," Harry managed to ask, seeing her injuries.

"I've been better," she replied quietly, shrugged her shoulders, "but don't worry about me. Harry, how are you?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he responded, "I don't know, actually. I don't think I've ever taken the time to think about what life would be like after the war ended."

Hermione nodded her head as she said slowly, "I feel the same way right now. It's almost as if I don't know what to do anymore. We spent such a long time trying to finish everything Professor Dumbledore had set out to accomplish and now that it is done, what's there left to do?"

Harry nodded his head in answer and went back to picking at the hole in his jeans, while also scratching at an itch in his ear.

"Everything's going to change now isn't it," Hermione asked quietly.

Harry looked over at her and replied, "Probably but isn't that what we set out to do…to change everything?"

"Yes, but it's almost as if this all feels like a dream. Voldemort's dead, his followers are caught, but for some reason, I don't feel happy at all. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but something feels wrong about this whole situation."

"Maybe its shock, what we're going through, because I feel exactly the same," Harry said, now picking at a blade of green grass.

"Maybe," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "I don't even know what to do next."

"Then come with me," Harry said, standing to his feet, stretching out his hand for Hermione to take, while chucking the newly-ripped grass back towards the ground.

Hermione turned to give him a questioning look. "Harry, where are you going?"

"Away," he responded simply, "I just can't be here right now."

"But what do we tell the others," Hermione asked, "Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall?"

Harry shook his head slightly from side to side as he replied, "We don't tell them anything, Hermione. We just go."

"And do you have any plan of what you're going to do?"

Again, Harry shook his head from side to side as he responded, "For the first time in my life Hermione, I don't have any plans. But right now, I need to get away from Hogwarts. But, I want you to come with me."

Hermione looked at Harry's still outstretched hand before she cautiously reached out her own hand and placed it in his. He helped her stand to her feet as they once again gazed into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. Smiling for the first time in what seemed like hours, Harry returned her hug, as he then noticed she was crying.

"I'm going to apparate away," Harry whispered down to her calmly.

"But, Harry, what about the wards," Hermione replied tearfully into his chest.

"They probably have been taken down with everyone celebrating," he replied.

As he felt her head nod in approval, Harry though hard before suddenly he apparted away, leaving behind Hogwarts, with Hermione in his arms.

Harry and Hermione appeared on the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place in London. As another blast of wind swept over the pair, Hermione realized they had left Hogwarts, as she slowly retracted her arms off of his shoulders; however, Harry still had one of his arms wrapped around her waist.

Grabbing his wand with his free hand, Harry pointed it at the keyhole of Grimmauld Place and said, " _ALOHOMORA_." Instantly, the lock clicked open and the door swung forward, emitting entrance to the two Gryffindors.

They stepped over the threshold and Harry instantly realized that the home was kept in pristine condition.

"It looks like Kreacher has never stopped cleaning the place," Harry commented, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Well, this is his home, Harry. I was actually surprised he left it to fight at Hogwarts and stay there instead of returning back here," Hermione responded softly, as the pair made their way down the narrow and darkened hallway, past closed doors and the life-sized painting of Walburga Black, whose soft snores could be heard rumbling about.

"Come on," Harry urged, now leading Hermione by the hand. He opened the door leading down to the kitchen. As the pair descended the steps, Harry flicked his wand as a fire started to burn in the room's fireplace.

"I'm going to fix us something to eat," Harry said, as he got to work in the kitchen, "just take a seat and relax."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she said, "Harry, when are you going to get it that you don't have to do everything alone? I'm going to help you."

"Honestly, Hermione, I'm fine," Harry said, "I did all of the cooking while at the Dursley's; it's no big deal."

"Well, I'm still going to help you, Harry," Hermione said, walking over to a counter, waving her wand to have a loaf of bread start to slice itself apart.

Harry and Hermione started to work like this in silence, waving their wands at different points in time, having a wide assortment of foods chop itself up, while the dishes, goblets, and cutlery flew over the pair's shoulders and onto the long table situated in the middle of the kitchen.

After ten minutes, Harry looked over at Hermione and said, "Take a seat, I'm just going to finish off this stew and I'll join you."

Harry waved his wand again as a black cauldron poured its contents into two bowls, billows of steam issuing into the air. Harry then walked over and sat down across from Hermione as the two bowls plopped itself down in front of them.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, smiling appreciatively over at him, "I can't remember the last time we sat down and ate a meal together."

As Harry dipped a slice of bread into his stew and took a bite, he wondered aloud, "I think it was with Kreacher, wasn't it…the night before we went to the Ministry of Magic?"

"Has it been that long," Hermione asked, looking off towards a bare wall.

"I think so," Harry responded.

"That was such a long time ago," Hermione stated, "and so many things have happened since then."

Harry nodded his head as he said, "Too many things."

The pair continued on to feast away on stillness, lost in their own muddled thoughts.

"I just wish there was a way we could have saved everyone," Harry started to say.

"Harry, don't," Hermione warned, looking over at him, staring into his bright, green eyes. "This was war, and as hard as it is to admit it, war holds no prejudice. It's unforgiving and cruel and unfortunately, not everyone lives to see their next day."

"I know that, Hermione, but it just hurts to see dead bodies all over the Great Hall, bodies of our friends and people we considered our family," Harry responded bitterly.

"Harry, you can't blame yourself for what has happened. None of this was your fault," Hermione reprimanded.

Harry shot her a cold glare as he said as calmly as he could, "I'm not blaming myself for anything."

"Yes you are," she said firmly, "you always tended to blame yourself for situations and events that were completely out of your control. I know you, Harry."

Harry shook his head, trying to even his breathing, as he knew Hermione was right.

"Harry, this isn't easy for me and I know it isn't easy for you," Hermione said gently, reaching out and taking hold of his hand, "but sometimes, life isn't fair. The best we can do is always remember who is close to us, and surround ourselves by those who love us, and we love in return."

Harry looked over at Hermione as his eyes started to water. He squeezed her hand as a lone tear escaped down the side of his cheek.

"I just remember seeing the faces of Remus, Tonks, George, Sirius, Dumbledore, and…I don't know, I feel like I failed them."

"Harry, how could you possible think that," Hermione sighed.

At her words, anger started bubbling dangerously inside of Harry all of a sudden as he ripped his hand out of Hermione's as he slammed his first on the wooden table and yelled loudly, "Because they're not here with us anymore, Hermione! They're dead…all of them…just like my parents! How could you possibly sit there and eat like nothing has happened! We just went through a war and you're trying to tell me that none of this is my fault!"

Hermione shakily stood to her feet as she started to say, "Harry, please-,"

But he cut her off as he continued to shout, "I'm a failure! I've failed so many people in my life and let so many others down! I hate where I am right now and I hate what my life has become! How are we able to move on from what has happened!"

Harry then grabbed his half-filled plate and flung it as hard as he could against one wall, where it shattered into thousands of pieces. He shoved his goblet off of the table where it clattered loudly onto the ground, dumping its contents onto the stone floor. Harry then stomped up the stairs of the kitchen and slammed the door as hard as he could behind him, leaving Hermione speechless and all alone in the Grimmauld Place kitchen.

At the sound of a door being slammed closed, the cold and murderous screams of the portrait of Ms. Black sprung to life, as the dark violet curtains of her painting were flung open, revealing the wide and hollowed, dark eyes of Walburga Black as her mouth spewed insults, such as, "Filth! Mudbloods! Blood-traitors! There are all the same! Pieces of vermin besmirching the noble and ancient house of Black! Trollops and gypsies alike, be gone!"

Harry looked at the revived portrait in disgust as he ascended the creaking stairs up to the homes' second story.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP," Harry yelled at the painting, shooting a shower of red sparks over at it, causing the curtains to close, and plunging the house back into silence.

Harry opened a random door and closed it, making sure not to slam it shut, and flung himself face-down on the bed inside. Thoughts clouded his mind. He kept seeing the dead bodies and the lifeless faces of those in the Great Hall, along with his outburst at Hermione down in the kitchen. He slammed his firsts onto the bed and groaned loudly in frustration. Why wasn't he celebrating an end to Voldemort and an end to the second Wizarding War that had finally reached its finale? Why wasn't he happy? Why did everyone have to die for him?

As more tears threatened to fall, Harry hastily took off his glasses and wiped his eyes free from a cascade of sorrow that still hung over him like a set of heavy chains to which there was no key to free him from.

After shoving his glasses back on his face, Harry took off his jacket and threw it against a wall as he continued to lay face-down on the bed, wishing for his feelings of dead weight to go away. However, he had the distinct feeling that these feelings would hang over him for the rest of his life.

A quiet knock was heard upon his door as Hermione's soft voice called out attentively, "Harry, are you in there?"

Harry thought of ignoring her, before he realized he didn't have the heart to do that to Hermione. He got up from the bed and opened the door to see Hermione standing there, a frown on her face, while a tray full of food levitated behind her.

He looked down into her eyes as she gulped and said courteously, "I thought you might like some food. You didn't get to finish yours downstairs."

Harry nodded his head once as he opened the door wider while Hermione motioned her wand for the food tray to land calmly on the bed. She gave him a small smile before turning away.

However, before she could descend the steps, Harry called out, "Hermione, wait!"

She turned around as he said, "Come join me, please? I'm sorry about before. I promise I won't yell at you again. And…I don't think you were able to finish your food either."

He gave her a lopsided smile as she gave a small smirk of her own and nodded her head in agreement. After she entered into the room, Harry closed the door behind them.

"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry about before. I know that this is hard for all of us, but especially you. But I meant everything that I told you back in the kitchen."

"I know," Harry nodded, "this is just so hard to come to terms with right now and all. But I really am sorry about yelling at your before…I just exploded."

"Don't worry about it," she said, before she sat down on the bed, while Harry took a seat across from her with the tray of food situated between them.

As the munched away on their food, Hermione remarked, "You know, Harry, I've got to hand it to you: you do cook really well."

He smiled at her and replied, "You think so?"

"No, I know so. I didn't know you could do it this well."

"Well what can I say: I had a lot of practice with my relatives."

"Are they officially out of your life," Hermione asked.

Harry thought about this for a moment before he responded, "I think so, for the most part at least. Although, it seemed as if Dudley finally got around seeing me as a person instead of his own personal punching bag right before they left."

"Where did they go?"

"Into hiding but I don't know where. I guess that they're somewhere far away."

"Do you think they'll return to Little Whinging since the war is over," Hermione asked, after she took a drink from her goblet.

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders, "I suppose so. I mean, they lived their whole lives there and all."

As Hermione nodded her head in understanding, Harry looked over at her and asked, "And what about your parents? They're still in Australia, right?"

Hermione nodded her head in answer as she said, "I think I'll keep them there for a little longer. I don't have any idea what's going to happen after today and I really don't want them to be around for that."

"Do you think you're ever going to tell your parents of exactly what happened with Voldemort and everything," Harry asked.

This time, it was Hermione who shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "I don't know yet. Part of me wants to, but another part of me doesn't. I guess I'll come to a decision when I bring them back to England."

As Harry and Hermione continued to eat their meal, Harry thought that it was time to address the 'elephant' in the room, so to speak.

Swallowing, he then asked, "So what is there between you and Ron?"

At this, Hermione froze with a forkful of food halfway to her mouth, as her eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed a light pink in embarrassment.

"What are you talking about," she asked quietly, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione, I saw what happened between the two of you during the battle. I'm not blind you know."

Hermione giggled lightly as she took her wand in her hand, pointed it at Harry's glasses and said, " _REPARO_." Instantly, the crack in his left lenses of his glasses fixed itself as Hermione said, "I can't believe neither one of us thought to fix it before now."

"Thanks, but stop avoiding my question," Harry continued.

"I don't think there is anything between me and Ron," Hermione said, after a thoughtful moment.

"Really? Because that kiss suggested something."

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head as she responded, "It was the heat of the moment, actually. I was overwhelmed with all of these emotions and Ron made that comment about the house-elves and…well, you know the rest. But enough about me, Harry, what about you and Ginny?"

"I don't know, really," Harry replied honestly. "I broke up with her before you, Ron, and I went off searching for horcruxes and I had every intention of getting back together with her when all of this ended."

"And you feel differently now," Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Yeah, I do. Something changed in all of us when we were away from Hogwarts. I don't know exactly what it was but something happened to us out there. I saw it in Ron, and I can see it in you, Hermione. But, it seems as if my feelings for Ginny have, you know, gone away. Not completely, but a good part of it just isn't there anymore. Does that make any sense?"

Hermione nodded her head as she stated, "It does, Harry. I guess it's safe to say we all grew up and maybe you realized that Ginny just isn't the one for you. Of course, you could still change your mind and everything; you shouldn't count her out just yet."

Harry nodded his head before he realized their tray of food was now empty.

Smiling over at her, he nodded his head and said, "Well, that was a pretty good lunch. Thank you, Hermione, for staying with me. It means a lot."

"Well, Harry, I was glad to keep you company and thank you for taking me along."

Before either of them could say anything further, a quiet _POP_ was suddenly heard. Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around to see Kreacher had just appeared in the Black family home, in the room where Harry and Hermione had just finished their lunch.

"Master Harry, your disappearance has created a stir back at Hogwarts," Kreacher croaked, "everyone is wondering where you have gone."

Harry looked from Kreacher to Hermione then back to Kreacher as he said, "I needed a break."

"Should I tell them at Hogwarts that Master needs his rest?"

Harry sighed audibly as he responded, "Tell them Hermione and I will be back before nightfall."

As Kreacher gave a low bow to Harry and hunched his shoulders at Hermione, Harry suddenly called out, "Kreacher."

The old and aging elf turned towards him, with his back curved at the spine while his over-large ears drooped towards the floor, as Harry said, "Thanks."

The elf bowed again before disappearing with another quiet _POP_.

Harry again looked over at Hermione and noticed she was smiling over at him, with little doubt of her reason of doing so was because of Harry and Kreacher's respectful relationship.

"What's that look for Hermione? Did you think after all this time that I would forget about being nice towards Kreacher?"

"Well, I would hope you wouldn't forget but you never know," Hermione joked, as Harry gave her a wide smile.

"Actually, Hermione, I want to go and visit my parents in Godric's Hollow," Harry said suddenly.

Hermione nodded her head at him and replied, "I thought you might want to. It also makes sense for you to visit them. But I think before we go, we need to clean ourselves up. We both look hideous."

Harry made a point to look down at himself before he gave Hermione a quizzical look and said, "I don't think so."

"You are so full of jokes today, Mr. Potter. I can see that you changed as well."

Harry laughed out loud as Hermione pointed her wand at him and said, " _TERGEO_." Harry was instantly free from the dirt, blood, and grime he was coated in as he then performed the spell on Hermione.

Being alone with Hermione made Harry feel more at ease ever since the final battle ended. He did not know if he could stomach being around so many people at the present moment, but having one of his best friends there with him, after everything they had been through together, comforted Harry far more than would ever be able to say.

Now feeling more elated than when he first arrived, Harry stood to his feet and held out his hand to help Hermione stand up.

"Are you ready," he asked her, pulling her close to his side.

She looked up at him and nodded her head. Nodding his own head once, Harry and Hermione apparated out of 12 Grimmauld Place, leaving behind the noble and ancient house of Black.

Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared on the outskirts of the small village of Godric's Hollow. Harry saw no one around them as he looked for anyone that might have spotted them as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist as she did the same to him.

It all seemed so serene to him to be strolling down a cobble-stone street where Harry had lived for a small part of his life, with one of his best friends right beside him. A soft wind blew over the pair as they passed tall trees that thundered upwards towards the clear, blue sky. The pair then walked by small cottages, nestled between high hedges which separated property from property.

It was quiet in Godric's Hollow, a sound that was so welcoming to Harry's ears, which would no doubt be a stark contrast to the events that were taking place at Hogwarts.

Turning a corner, Harry then spotted what he had ventured here for: the wrought, iron gates of the village's cemetery. Together, the pair walked under a small gated entrance where Harry, who knew exactly where his parents' graves were this time around, led Hermione towards.

Walking down a lone row, the young pair stood before the gravestones of James and Lily Potter, lives taken too soon while their deaths left behind a life they never knew.

Both Harry and Hermione kneeled down before the headstones of Harry's parents, while Harry noticed that the wreath of flowers Hermione had conjured the winter before was still there, resting peacefully against the tombstones.

Harry closed his eyes as Hermione took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. He reassured her that he was fine by squeezing her hand back.

For a long moment, the two knelt there together, no words being said aloud, as no words were needed. The peace, knowing that Harry had defeated the wizard who had killed his parents, surrounded him in a manner of pure euphoria. And even though his parents were gone, Harry had made sure there deaths were not in vain. A small part of him knew that even though his parents were not there physically, mentally and emotionally, they would always be part of him.

Harry thought about everyone that had died in both the first and second wizarding wars that had erupted in England. The faces of his friends and family passed through his head, making him aware of the fact that he would never be alone. Harry surmised that he had come a long way from his first day on the Hogwarts Express, where he would enter into another world, blind to Muggles, which would forever change him.

He opened his eyes just as Hermione waved her wand and conjured a set of white lilies and placed them against the graves quietly.

Harry smiled at the flowers before standing to his feet while Hermione did the same. Taking her soft hand in his, the pair walked out of the cemetery, both of them feeling lighter than when they first came in.

"Harry, did you want to stop by your house," Hermione asked softly, looking over at him.

After he thought about her suggestion for a moment, he nodded his head and replied, "Yeah, I think we should check it out."

The two walked down an empty street, before turning right and heading towards the end of the lane which was where the Potter's cottage lie in its current state of ruin. Harry and Hermione saw that its outer wall was covered in green ivy, while beyond an old, wooden gate, the grass seemed to have never stopped growing. A portion of the roof had caved in, revealing collapsed wooden beams and small splinters. The door to the cottage had been blasted apart, while curtains behind a broken glass window blew gently in the breeze.

Harry carefully opened the gate as he and Hermione passed the small sign that appeared before wizards, explaining what had happened that fateful October night. As they wandered among the chest-high grass, Harry's breathing became more and more uneven, for this would be the first time he stepped into the home where the death of his parents occurred.

Leading Hermione by the hand, the pair stepped over the threshold and looked around and noticed how bad of a state the Potter's cottage was left in. There was rubble everywhere; the banister of the stairs was coated in a thick layer of dust, while a bed hung halfway down the middle of the ceiling. A small chandelier was shattered onto the wooden floor in the home's foyer, as glass was littered all around. The furniture was covered in mold and dirt, while the wallpaper hung dead off of the cottage's walls.

Hermione gasped as she looked around the home as she whispered, "Harry, this is awful."

He turned towards her and said, "Well, no one's been around to look after it."

"Do you mind if we clean it up a bit," Hermione asked.

He shook his head from side to side as he replied, "Not at all."

Hermione then waved her wand as instantly, the cottage began to repair itself. The dust vanished off of the banister of the stairs; the bed flew upwards and disappeared as it returned to its original place upstairs; parts of the ceiling pieced together again in which the small chandelier hung itself from; tiny glass shards flew around Harry and Hermione as they fit together to form the windows of the home; the mold and dirt disappeared from the furniture while the wallpaper plastered itself once again against the walls of the small home.

Harry looked around the see the Potter's cottage was clean as if it was completely new.

"Wow," he breathed in satisfaction, "thanks, Hermione."

She smiled over at him in answer.

Harry then walked into the living room and saw a number of pictures that were erected upon a ledge over the fireplace.

He bent down with Hermione and saw a picture of him as a baby on his dad's shoulders, as the both of them were laughing and smiling. Another picture showed his mum feeding him his bottle of milk, while she repeatedly looked over her shoulder to wave at the camera. A final picture showed both of his parents dancing in the room he and Hermione were standing in, as Lily was enveloped in James' arms, the two of them enjoying the love they shared with each other and for their only son.

"Your mum was beautiful, Harry," Hermione said, gazing at each picture in turn. "And you look exactly like your dad."

He smiled over at Hermione before replying, "Except for my eyes."

She smirked beside him as he then noticed a folded piece of parchment was lying under the picture of his parents dancing.

Curious, he picked up the piece of parchment and read aloud:

 _January 30, 1981,_

 _James is just someone who is always full of surprises! When I woke this morning, a year older than the day before, I expected to receive a big kiss from my husband, wishing me a 'happy birthday.' However, that did not happen. In fact, nothing did. I thought that he had forgotten about my birthday altogether, and quite frankly, who could blame him? Just yesterday we received grim news about the murder of Fabian and Gideon Prewett; a very big loss in such a senseless war that has been going on here in England. It is feared that an entire generation will be lost before this war finds its end. Even though James always keeps a smile on his face, I can see in his eyes that he always worries over me and little Harry. He always makes sure that me and little Harry are as comfortable as possible even though we have since gone into hiding in Godric's Hollow. And this is distinctly why I have fallen in love with him._

 _I shake my head to see how far James has come since our years at Hogwarts together. He was such a big-headed showoff and I could barely stand the sight of such a daft airhead! But, by the time our seventh-year came around, he changed. I didn't know how or why he had done so, but he just did. Although I tried to bid my time away from his charming smiles and his untamable jet-black hair, there was something about him that I suddenly felt attracted to. Was it his hazel eyes that seemed to glow in mischief or was it his Quidditch skills that made the entire Gryffindor house swoon at the knees? I don't know if it was one or the other, or a completely different trait, but he had definitely changed and I started to take notice._

 _After I was initially upset after not being wished a 'happy birthday' by anyone the entire day, Sirius suddenly appeared in our home. James told me that Sirius was going to baby-sit little Harry while James told me we needed to talk, in private. As we left our cottage, I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder at Sirius and little Harry; no doubt a handful of items would be broken by the time we would arrive back at home._

 _James led me down the quiet streets of Godric's Hollow in the moonlight, until we came upon what looked like a piece of graffiti plastered across a side wall in a dim alleyway, situated between two old stores. The graffiti art was of a woman's face, covered in heavy makeup while her brown hair was styled beautifully. There was also a raven that was situated on her shoulder but this raven appeared to be quite odd: one of its wings was covered in black feathers while its other wing was covered in shimmering diamonds; the display was simply stunning!_

 _James looked at me and gave me a sly smile before taking out his wand and tapping the graffiti three times. Suddenly, the raven flew out of the picture as the woman blinked over at us. James leaned towards the graffiti woman and said quietly, 'Potter, party of two.' The woman nodded in understanding as a doorway suddenly appeared to which James and I stepped forward. I gasped in surprise when I saw…_

Harry stopped reading and looked on the back of the parchment he had found his mother's note upon but saw no other writing.

"It stops there," Hermione asked, who had taken a seat next to Harry on a couch while he read the note to her.

"Yeah," Harry said, disappointment seeping into his voice. He stood to his feet and looked under all of the other pictures to see if the second part of Lily's note was there, but it was not to be found. "Well, at least it's something, right?"

Hermione then stood to her feet as she looked over at Harry and said, "It was lovely. It shows just how much your parents cared for each other and for you, Harry."

Harry folded up the piece of parchment that bore his mother's writing and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. He then turned to Hermione and said, "Let's go upstairs and take a quick look around."

As she nodded her head, he grabbed her hand and together, they walked up the stairs of the cottage. When they reached the landing, Harry led Hermione to a door on their immediate right and opened it to find a room that housed a small bed, decked in blue and white sheets, while a dresser and a full-length mirror stood against a far wall.

They then traveled to the landing's second bedroom, and Harry and Hermione viewed what they supposed was James and Lily's room, for it was much larger than the first room, and another assortment of pictures of the two of them, as well as Harry as a baby, along with another picture James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

When Harry saw the four marauders standing together, laughing at the camera before them, Harry's mouth turned into a frown before hatred started to bubble deep within his heart at the sight of his parents' betrayer: Peter Pettigrew.

Seeing Harry's face contort into a mask of rage, Hermione put her hand over his chest while her other hand rested softly on his shoulder.

He looked over at her as she silently but forcefully pried him away from the moving picture.

"Harry, remember that it is over now," she said in a somber voice.

Harry grabbed her hand that was still resting peacefully against his chest before wrapping Hermione in a warm hug.

"I miss them…I miss them a lot, Hermione," he eventually whispered to her.

"I know, Harry, but remember that they'll always be a part of your life. It doesn't matter if it's physically or not." She pulled away as she said, "They'll always be right here," and rested her hand over his heart.

Never before had Harry shown such emotion or feeling over his family, other than the time that he completely trashed Dumbledore's office after Sirius had died in the Death Chamber down in the Department of Mysteries. To Harry, he had never been given a childhood of emotional depth, and he felt awkward if he tried to express his wide range of emotions. Simply, it was something Harry could not do. Back in his fifth year, Harry had lashed out at anyone within his reach, including Ron and Hermione, after he had been disconnected with the wizarding world after the events that unfolded during the Triwizard Tournament. Expressing himself was an idea that was completely foreign to him.

However, being here, in Godric's Hollow with Hermione, it was different. He didn't know why this particular trip was special (though he guessed it had to do with the fact that the war was now over and Voldemort was dead), but he wasn't positive on that thought. Hermione, though, seemed to have this aura about her that signified heartache, through the matter that she connected with Harry on a personal level…something that no one else had been able to accomplish. At this point in time, after the war had ended, Harry felt as if his feelings about loss and misplacement were compatible with what Hermione was too feeling. It was something only the two experienced together, as no other person was able to share their understanding of each other.

After looking in each other's eyes for another minute, Hermione said, "There's still another room to look at."

Nodding his head, he again led her by the hand for the third and final bedroom of the cottage. As the door creaked slowly open, Harry saw a small, white crib was resting against one of the pale blue walls, while a rocking chair was situated next to it.

Smiling at the scene, he walked into the room and saw half a dozen stuffed animals that were residing within his old crib. He picked up a stuffed chimaera and shook his head at it in mock embarrassment while Hermione said, "I think that suits you, Harry."

"Really? Well, in that case, I think this is the one for you, Hermione." He picked up a stuffed banshee and placed it in her hands.

She quirked up an eyebrow at him while giving him a pointed look and said, "Really? Is this the best you can do?"

He laughed loudly as they placed the animals back in the crib. As Harry took another look around his old room, Hermione asked, "What are you going to do with this place, Harry?"

"I was thinking I would leave it just as it is, for now. I don't think that I could stomach living in Grimmauld Place and this just feels like my home…something I didn't really have growing up."

"Well, you have every right to keep it, Harry. But does this mean that you won't be returning to Hogwarts next term?"

Harry looked over at Hermione as his bright, green eyes met her warm, brown ones. He shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat on the floor while Hermione followed him.

"It's something that I haven't given much thought about. Before, I had every intention of not returning but now, I guess I could consider it. You're returning though, right?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before she nodded her head and replied, "I feel like I have an obligation to return. And I want to go back as well to finish my education."

Harry nodded his head in understanding. "Do you think that many people will return to Hogwarts in the fall?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she responded, "I don't know for sure. I think this war has impacted so many students and staff that I don't think many people do have any plans as of right now."

"I guess it should be a time for mourning," Harry remarked quietly, as he leaned back on his hands.

Hermione looked grim at his words as she sat cross-legged before him. "I guess everyone will make their plans during the remainder of the summer."

The pair sat there as silence descended between them. After a long moment, Harry looked at Hermione and questioned, "How do you think that Hogwarts is right now?"

"Do you mean Hogwarts itself, or the people that are there?"

"The people," Harry answered.

"I can't imagine that they're hurting for the people that we've lost, but I'd also imagine that they're happy and elated and relieved that the war has finally ended."

"I don't want to go back, Hermione. I just can't deal with all of it right now."

"Harry, when do you think you're going to be able to handle it? The more you wait, the harder it is going to be when you come face-to-face with everyone that is waiting for you back there," Hermione reasoned. "As hard as it is to say, they're not going to go away."

"I don't know if I'll be ready for it because I don't feel like I am right now," Harry said quietly.

Hermione scooted over so that she was next to Harry and said, "I'll be there with you every step of the way. This is hard for all of us, Harry, but we have to face the reality that the war has ended, and now it's time to move on. We will never forget what happened but we can't keep avoiding what will come next."

"And what does come next, Hermione?"

"I don't know for sure, Harry, but you can't forget that we have each other. We also have all of our friends as well."

Without smiling, Harry nodded his head at her as he stood to his feet, then turned to help Hermione to hers.

"Well then, I guess it's time we returned," he asked.

"It's probably for the best," she answered.

"Hermione, before we go, I want to thank you again for coming with me. This kind of reminds me of when you and I were alone when hunting for the horcruxes."

"I'll never forget that. That was the first time we visited Godric's Hollow together, actually," Hermione said.

"Trust me when I say that I remember that perfectly, Hermione."

She smiled over at him and said, "Well, I guess it would be appropriate for me thank you as well for taking me along. This is just going to be so strange, not having to worry about Voldemort anymore."

"In fact, I don't mind that at all," Harry stated, with a small smile.

"Me neither," Hermione replied.

Harry wrapped Hermione in his arms. As she draped her arms around his waist, she snuggled her head against his chest. Harry then took the opportunity to rest his head atop of hers. For a while, they just stood there, hugging each other, and basking in the peacefulness of the moment caught in time, a time of which a major war had ended and an evil, dark wizard had met his downfall.

"Harry, do you think they would have placed the anti-apparation wards back around Hogwarts," Hermione asked after a moment.

"There's only one way to find out." With those words, Harry apparated he and Hermione away from Godric's Hollow and towards Hogwarts castle where their future would begin.

-  
Author's Small Note: Chapter 2 will be posted Tuesday. Thanks for reading.


	2. Nightfall

Chapter 2: Nightfall

The final rays of the sun could be seen stretching itself over the remaining towers of Hogwarts castle, as the last glimpses of daylight came to a close. The citadel itself was in need of immense repair after the battle that had besieged it, but that would come in due time. A wind picked up over the grounds of the castle as Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared in each other's arms under the same tree they had left under earlier that morning.

The two turned to look at Hogwarts, standing side-by-side. As the sky transformed from a gold simmer into a deep indigo, lights started popping up from behind the fortress's windows, casting yellow squares of light across the darkening grounds, as nightfall quickly approached.

Hermione turned to face Harry, took hold of his hand, and asked, "Are you ready for this, Harry?"

He looked over at her with a frown on his face as he replied, "It's now or never, isn't it?"

She gave him a warm smile and said, "Remember, I'll be right here next to you."

He nodded his head in answer as the pair started to make their way up the sloping lawns of Hogwarts, as the sun sank lower and lower off in the distance behind a pair of rolling hills.

As the two Gryffindors approached the open doors of the castle, they could hear the noise level issuing from its occupants within its walls steadily grow louder and louder.

At this, Harry stopped in his tracks, making Hermione halt as well.

She turned to look at him and questioned, "What is it, Harry?"

His bright, green eyes were transfixed upon the open doors of Hogwarts, as he slowly shook his head from side to side, saying, "I don't think I'm ready yet."

"You said so yourself that it's now or never, right," Hermione consoled.

"I think I would choose 'never' at this point," he countered.

"Harry, listen to me: there is a huge group of people that feel they are forever indebted to you after you defeated Voldemort. Truthfully, I don't think it is going to ever get easier after today. First, you were known as 'The Boy who Lived,' then 'The Chosen One.' Who knows what silly little title they'll give you now but people are always going to remember you, Harry."

"Is this small talk supposed to be helping me get through the doors of Hogwarts," Harry asked, "because it's making me think of turning around and walking away."

"The point I'm trying to make Harry is that you can choose to lead and live the life you want."

After Harry gave her a puzzled look, she continued by saying, "Harry, most of the wizarding community in England has no idea what you are like on the inside as a person; all they know is the title that is given to you, like some sort of celebrity. But when you think about it, no one has a right to know what you are like personally, Harry."

"So are you saying that I should hide behind the labels people give me," Harry asked.

"I'm saying that no matter what you do or what you say, people will always brand you as the 'hero' of the wizarding world but it is your choice of whether to accept that or not. You don't have to be 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Chosen One' if you choose not to. You can just be Harry Potter, born to James and Lily, on July 31st, 1981."

Harry continued to gaze at Hermione as her pondered over her words. "Just Harry?"

Hermione smiled as she nodded, "Just Harry."

After thinking over what she said for a quick moment, he suddenly said, "Come on, then," and grasped her hand and lead the way up towards the entrance of Hogwarts.

However, as soon as they walked inside, scenes of the battle shot through both Harry and Hermione's line of vision. All of the death and destruction that took place in the exact same spot they were now standing in crashed over the pair, like waves slamming against hard slabs of rock on a seashore. Harry couldn't rid himself of the gory images he saw, and the fresh blood that flowed like a river out of the front doors of the castle. For a moment, Harry thought he would surely vomit, emptying his stomach of its contents. He staggered around, his hand still entwined with Hermione's, as he tried to clear his line of sight away from the Battle of Hogwarts.

His breathing became more ragged as if he was gasping for his last breaths of air. But, soon, a cool hand found his cheek. Harry closed his eyes and melted into this new touch, as his breathing returned to a normal pace, and his visions of the battle started to dissipate.

Opening his eyes, he saw the concerned eyes of Hermione looking up at him.

"Are you alright," she asked softly.

"I think so," Harry replied.

"You looked like you were about to pass out for a moment there," she said to him.

"I felt like I was going to too."

"It's perfectly normal, Harry, after what we went through."

"How long do you think we'll still be able to see everything that had happened during the battle," Harry asked, concern evident in his eyes.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in silence before she replied, "A long time, most likely."

Harry nodded his head in understanding before he swallowed, sighed heavily, and began walking towards the open doors of the Great Hall, where a building chorus of conversation was bubbling out of.

Once again, Harry stopped in his tracks and leaned against a stone wall, releasing Hermione's hand.

"Harry, you can do this…I believe in you," she said, looking at him.

"I know, I know, I just need to…take a small breather," he replied, as his heartbeat quickened. The last time he looked into the Great Hall, he saw the dead bodies of so many people he was close to, of people he considered to be part of his extended family. He had assumed the bodies had been moved but he didn't know if that was supposed to be a comforting thought or not.

Conversations buzzed over at Harry and Hermione as they stood just outside of the Great Hall. It seemed as if everyone that was part of the final battle stayed at Hogwarts.

"Come on," Hermione said, tugging Harry's hand forward.

As darkness overtook the grounds of Hogwarts outside, Harry and Hermione stood together, framed within the doorway of the Great Hall.

They saw the four house tables had been conjured though it seemed as if most of those inside decided to put two tables together, creating one long table in which everyone was seated at, partaking in a mighty feast, full of a wide assortment of foods and desserts.

At first, no one noticed the appearance of Harry and Hermione. It was only when Hagrid looked up from his spot at the table and stood to his feet, did people notice that they had returned.

Heads turned in curiosity which then morphed into taking a peek at the young wizard that had conquered Voldemort, as whispers erupted from those seated at the table.

Ginny was the next person to stand to her feet, her puffy eyes red from so many tears that had been shed in such a short amount of time, and started making her way towards Harry. Ron also stood to his feet, and also made his way towards Harry and Hermione.

Suddenly, everyone in the vicinity of the Great Hall stood to their feet as they all started clapping and cheering as a massive charge was universally orchestrated.

Hermione could sense the panic rising within Harry as he seemed to emit a sudden sense of alarm that all of the rushing people had upon him.

As they all came closer and closer, Hermione was ready. Whipping out her wand, she shouted, " _PROTEGO_!"

A powerful shield charm was cast, which created an invisible barrier between the large group of witches and wizards and Harry and Hermione.

Everyone stopped as they shot Hermione puzzled glances.

"Everybody please understand that Harry is very tired and exhausted," Hermione said in a shaky voice as she noticed nearly every eye was upon her, "he needs some food and a lot of rest, just like all of us."

When she noticed the crowd was silent and still, she removed her shield charm to see Mrs. Weasley barrel forward, knocking over two young students in the process, as she held in her hands a full plate of food.

"Here you are, dear," she said in a soothing tone, "why don't you take this up to Gryffindor tower. Have Ron go with you."

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry mumbled, taking the plate of food from her hands, without being able to look her in the eyes. He felt as if his heart was being ripped to shreds when he noticed the sadness that was laced within her voice.

As Ginny made to move forward to walk with Harry, he heard Mrs. Weasley said, "Not right now, dear. Give Harry a little space."

Without looking at Ginny, Harry turned away and walked out of the Great Hall with both Ron and Hermione at his sides.

"Mate, everyone has been wondering where you were…the both of you, actually," Ron said, as the trio ascended the stairs, up towards Gryffindor tower.

Hearing Ron's voice, Harry stopped mid-step and looked over at him.

"Ron, I'm so sorry about what happened to Fred," Harry started, as Hermione's eyes slowly welled up with tears, "you know I never meant for anything like that to happen to him or anyone else."

Ron placed a hand on Harry's shoulder as he shot his friend a comforting smile.

"This was war, Harry. I appreciate your words but these types of things happen in a war. Fred went out fighting, which I'm sure was the way he would have wanted no other way of doing so. You have no reason to apologize."

Harry could only nod his head with a heavy heart as Hermione quickly wiped her eyes and asked, "Ron, can you tell us what has happened since we've been gone?"

"Well, not much really. We decided to move the um, well you know, the bodies up to the hospital wing for a short time. Uh, McGonagall gave a small speech shortly after you guys left about how we should all leave Harry alone, and that we all needed a lot of rest after what we went through. She also said that Hogwarts would need to be repaired over the summer and she reckons we need all the help we can get."

"So Hogwarts is going to re-open," Hermione asked.

Ron nodded his head at her and he continued, "She said that everyone is welcomed to stay at Hogwarts for however long that is needed. It's just such a mess right now. I would have thought that we would all be celebrating when V-V-Voldemort was defeated, but there are so many things that have to be done."

The trio walked along a lone corridor as their shadows crept behind them on a separate wall, as small fires burned in evenly placed pedestals along the passageway.

Rubble and bits and pieces of concrete lay about, as tiny shards of glass, mingled with a thick layer of dust, hid the floor away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

As the three approached the painting of the Fat Lady, which hid the entrance to Gryffindor tower, she was singing and dancing to a tune in her head, as the paintings around her was in a full festive mode.

"Oh, my dears," she cried out, waving down at the three students, "the war has ended! We have achieved victory!"

Harry suddenly realized he didn't know what the password was to enter Gryffindor tower, as he, Ron, and Hermione have not been inside the tower for over a year.

"Um, can we please get in," Harry asked, gesturing forward.

"Oh how silly of me…of course you can! There is no password needed today! No sir, for the war is finally over!"

As the painting swung forward, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stepped over the threshold as the shrill cries of the Fat Lady faded away behind them.

Harry walked over to a table situated next to a window of the tower that displayed the dim and quiet grounds below. The three sat down as Harry pushed his plate towards the center of the table and said, "Help yourselves."

Ron reached in and grabbed a cornish pasty and took a bite of it. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't bring himself to eat anything.

"Are you not hungry," Ron asked both Harry and Hermione after he saw the pair of them not eating.

"I don't have the stomach for it right now," Hermione answered, as she turned her head to stare out of the window.

"So are you guys going to tell me where the two of you went," Ron questioned, as Harry thought he detected a hint of hurt framed within his voice.

"Ron, I had to get out of here, and away from Hogwarts. I didn't even know what to think after everything ended. I found Hermione by the Black Lake and asked her if she wanted to come with me and she said 'yes.' We went to Grimmauld Place and ate there together," Harry responded.

"Why did you feel that you needed to go away, Harry," Ron asked, sounding relieved.

"After everything that we all went through, from hunting horcruxes, and traveling to Malfoy Manor, then to Luna's home, to Gringott's bank, to Hogesmeade, and back to Hogwarts, I needed to be someplace where there wasn't many people around."

"And how do you feel now," Ron pressed on after a quiet moment.

"Like I'm living a completely different life from what I've known," Harry replied.

Ron nodded as he said, "Well, mum and Ginny have been a nervous wreck ever since you left. They're worried about you, Harry, and how you're dealing with all of this."

"Well, quite honestly, I can't say that I'm doing any better than before," Harry said quietly.

As silence passed between the three best friends, Ron then questioned, "So what are your plans for the summer then?"

Hermione turned her head to face him as she said, "I've got to go and find my parents, actually."

"And when are you going to do that," Ron asked.

"Soon," she replied, "really soon. After that, I think I'm going to come back here and help with the repairs. I mean, this has been my home for the past six years and I can't stay away from it when it's in the current state that it's in right now."

Ron nodded once in understanding before turning his attention to Harry.

"I've been thinking that I'm going to stay in Godric's Hollow for the first part of the summer, and continue to come back here and also help with the repairs to Hogwarts. It's been my home for the last six years too," Harry said quietly, before asking, "and how about you, Ron?"

"I'll help with Hogwarts, and then, I think I'm going to work with George at his joke shop," Ron answered, "he's offered me a spot and all, and I think I'm going to take it."

"Ron, that's great," Hermione said softly, beaming over at him, "but does that mean you're not returning for seventh year?"

"I hadn't thought about it, yet. Of course, mum would probably go mental if I didn't, but I don't know, there's too much history here for me to consider returning in the fall," Ron replied. "It's hard to explain but I just don't see myself coming back. But I assume that you are," he said, looking over at Hermione.

"Yes, I think I will. I mean, I started my education here and I feel like it would be wasteful not to return for N.E.W.T.s."

"You know, you and Harry could probably find a job at the Ministry of Magic without taking your N.E.W.T.s," Ron remarked, "after everything you guys have done."

"Us…what about you," Hermione shot back, "you were with us too, Ron."

"Yeah, but not all the time. You know, when I left you and all, and I'm not as strong at spells and defense and potions like you two are."

"Ron, you can't put yourself down like that. If you are thinking about pursuing a career outside of the joke shop, then you should go for it," Hermione asserted. "Harry and I will even help you with whatever you need."

Ron smiled over at her and said, "I'll keep that in mind but I've pretty much made my decision."

Harry looked from Ron to the nearly full plate of food in front of him. For some reason, however, he found that he wasn't hungry, even though the last time he ate was earlier in the afternoon with Hermione. The food seemed unappealing to him…almost as if he wasn't supposed to be eating here at Hogwarts.

He looked over at Hermione whose warm, brown eyes were looking over at him. Harry couldn't quite place it, but he felt that he and Hermione were sharing a similar thought between the two of them about the food and eating at Hogwarts. He made a mental note to himself to talk about that thought with her later.

"So," Ron started, turning to face Harry, "Ginny has been a right state ever since you left. Do you think you're going to talk to her, mate?"

Harry blinked his eyes two times in rapid succession as he said, "Probably not tonight. I'm still completely worn out and I just don't think what I have to say is the most important thing right now."

"Ever since you broke things off with her, she told me that she would never stop thinking about you, especially last year when the three of us weren't here at Hogwarts. But I just want you to know, Harry, that I support your choice of dating my little sister. At first, it was really weird to see the two of you together, but I've gotten over it. I think it is for the best to see the two of you happy, which is when you guys are together."

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say back. After Ron's words, he couldn't find it in himself to tell him that he wasn't interested in Ginny anymore in terms of being in a relationship with her. He had changed, just like Ron and Hermione had, and add to the fact that this change in him made him feel like something was wrong with the way he fell for Ginny that restrained his feelings for her. It is almost as if it happened a little too fast.

However, Harry shook off these thoughts as Ron's voice said, "Mum supports the two of you as well. She was thinking that if you didn't have anywhere to stay over the summer, that you could stay over at the Burrow. I know you said you plan on staying at Godric's Hollow, but I'm sure mum would still love to have you over anytime you'd like to stop by."

"Uh, definitely," Harry heard his own voice replying. "Well, anyway, I think I'm going to head off to bed. I need to catch up on some sleep."

"Sure," Ron nodded, "good night."

"'Night," Harry replied before he climbed the staircase up to his old dormitory.

As his dormitory door creaked open, he smiled faintly when he saw that nothing in here had been changed; it was almost as if small bits and pieces within the caste were left untouched by the war as Harry thought too much had changed at Hogwarts with it starting to become unfamiliar to him.

Harry didn't find the energy in himself to undress, as he fell back onto his mattress, still dressed in his clothes he had been wearing for the past couple of days. The thought of how unsanitary this must be to be sleeping in the same clothes he wore will fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters didn't even enter Harry's mind.

However, as he lay against his pillows, he couldn't find sleep. Again, being here in his old dormitory, a sense of the unknown overcame him as he didn't feel comfortable being here at Hogwarts.

He tried to force sleep to take him but shutting his eyes and trying to relax, but Harry found that his mind was like a vortex of so many different thoughts and emotions mixing together, keeping him wide awake. Sighing loudly, Harry rested his two hands over his stomach as he stared blankly up at the ceiling of his four-poster bed.

Harry then heard a blend of sounds just outside of his dormitory. Quickly, he drew the curtains of his bed right before the voices of Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Neville entered.

He vaguely heard his four housemates attend to their own beds as a low chorus of 'goodnights' was heard before Harry found the room once again cast in silence.

Harry then shut his eyes and tried to will himself to fall asleep, but for some reason, it didn't come.

Mentally sighing, Harry stood to his feet and exited his dormitory. He descended the spiral stairs back into the common room. He left Gryffindor tower and walked alone down hallways still piled with rubble and debris, as he found himself following his own footsteps, trusting that they would lead him to a destination where he could rest.

Right before Harry turned a corner, he heard familiar voices speaking to each other. He leaned as close he could against a dark wall and listened.

"Minerva, do you think it is best for Harry to be holed up like this? He seemed so out of sorts when he returned," Molly was heard saying in a solemn tone.

"Well, I believe that Harry is taking the aftermaths of the war the hardest of all. Albus's portrait did warn me of this," the Transfiguration professor said back.

"If what you say is true, the poor lad is probably blaming himself for everything that had happened and for everyone that we lost. I think that he needs to be around people that love and support him," Molly responded.

"Yes, but I feel that Harry is probably going to need his own space for the time being. No one can relate to what Harry has gone through, and losing so many people he was so close to at his age is a matter all unto itself," McGonagall replied. "I think that Harry is trying to cope with what has happened while also trying to decide on how to move forward in life."

"I just feel like I want to help him in the best way that I can," Molly stated.

"Which is what many people want to aid Harry with but I believe that he will ultimately decide what he thinks is best to do next. I think many of us expected Harry to disappear from England, leaving behind our war-torn community."

"You don't think he'll come to that, do you," Molly asked in a high whisper.

"I can't say for sure, as the war hasn't even been over for a full day yet. But Harry seems to keep himself grounded around Ron and Hermione. I'm sure that with everything those three have been through together, he would consider their advice before taking any action," McGonagall explained.

"I think you're right…those three are such a close group," Molly said. "I also meant to ask you if the rumors about Kingsley becoming the next Minister of Magic are true."

"I don't believe he has made a decision yet, as you well know the next minister will have a huge job to do in rectifying everything that has been destroyed during the war. However, I believe that Kingsley is our best hope for moving on into the future."

"Arthur thinks so as well," Molly retorted. "He also thinks that big changes are going to come to the Ministry of Magic."

"Well I would hope so. After Fudge's administration fiasco, I have to say that Scrimgeour fared little better. I, for one, would love to see the day where we had proficient minister," McGonagall replied.

As a little silence spread between the two witches, McGonagall then asked, "Are you and Arthur okay with your sleeping arrangements? It's the best we could do on short notice."

"Please, Minerva, don't worry about Arthur and I. We'll be just fine."

Harry then heard footsteps as both Minerva McGonagall and Molly Weasley walked away from where Harry had been hiding in the shadows.

After hearing what McGonagall had to say, he was surprised to learn that many people would think Harry would leave England in the rear. He supposed he could move to a different country and start a new life there, but with so much that has happened to him in England, Harry didn't think he could ever leave it behind, even if he wanted to.

Harry continued on as he soon found himself entering back into the Great Hall. However, he was surprised to see that Hermione was already there. He looked at her for a second, noticing that she was sitting at the long table with her back to him, as she appeared to be gazing up at the colossal glass window that was situated behind the staff table.

He started to stroll towards her as his footsteps quietly echoed around the Great Hall. She turned to look at her intruder over her shoulder, and when she saw that it was Harry, she shot him a warm smile.

He nodded back as he took a seat next to her.

"Couldn't sleep," she asked.

"No," Harry replied, "not at all. What about you?"

"The same," she said shortly.

"You know, it almost feels as if Hogwarts feels like a place where I don't belong anymore," Harry started, "I felt it up in the common room with Ron. Even in my old bed, something didn't feel right about me being here."

Hermione looked over at him and replied, "You don't know what it is, do you?"

He looked over at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise and said, "And you do?"

"I have a thought," she proposed, before falling silent again.

"And what thought might that be," Harry asked, urging her on.

"It's what happened earlier today, Harry…you went back to the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow," she stated.

Harry thought about what she said but nothing came to a reasonable conclusion in his mind. "I don't understand."

"Well think about it: you always referred to Hogwarts as your home, because you hated living with your aunt and uncle and how they mistreated you. However, today, you returned to your real home, Harry, the place where you were born, which is Godric's Hollow. That is where your journey started and that's where you now refer to as home," she explained.

Harry took the time to piece together her words. He reckoned she made a fair and valid point and could see no reason to argue against it.

Hermione continued by saying, "It's where your parents lived, Harry, and no matter how short your time was with them, they will always be connected to you and you to them through Godric's Hollow. That's why I think you aren't comfortable in Hogwarts anymore because you now have a home to go to."

He smiled over at her as he noticed her eyes seemed to be watering.

"What is it, Hermione," he asked gently.

"It's nothing, Harry," she replied, shaking her head, "I'm just happy that you now have a place to call home and all. It's a silly reason to get emotional over, I know."

"No, it's not, Hermione. Don't forget that you were with me both times I returned to Godric's Hollow. Both of those times meant a lot to me, actually."

"They meant a lot to me too, Harry."

He nodded his head as he looked out in front of him and started to fix his gaze on the large window he and Hermione were facing.

"Hermione, what were you doing here in the Great Hall though," Harry suddenly asked.

"I couldn't get comfortable either," she replied, "I thought I needed to walk off my energy in here. But since then, I've been thinking."

When she didn't go on, Harry asked, "Thinking about what?"

"My parents. I'm trying to figure out when I'm going to go to Australia and take them back here."

"When were you thinking about going?"

"In the next few days," she said, "I miss them a lot. I mean, I haven't seen them in such a long time and I can't wait to see them again."

"Where in Australia are they?"

"I sent them to Brisbane, in the state of Queensland," Hermione answered. "They have their own ministry there so I thought it was for the best."

As Harry nodded in answer, both of their stomachs growled hungrily.

They looked at each other as Harry stated, "I guess we should've eaten back when we had the chance to," in which they both laughed freely.

"Do you want to go down to the kitchens? I'm sure we could get something down there to eat," Hermione said.

A thought suddenly occurred to Harry as he said, "Actually, I have another idea."

As Hermione gave him a weary look, Harry called out softly, "Kreacher."

Suddenly, the old house-elf popped into existence, bowed low to the ground, and said, slowly, "Master called for Kreacher?"

"Yes, Kreacher, I wanted to ask you if you would be able to bring Hermione and I some dinner at Potter's cottage in Godric's Hollow," Harry asked, as Hermione turned to give him a surprised look.

"What would Master like," the house-elf asked.

"Anything, really. The both of us are pretty hungry," Harry answered.

"Kreacher will prepare Master's food."

Before the house-elf could pop away, Harry called out, "Thanks, Kreacher." With another low bow, the elf was gone.

Harry looked over at Hermione and said, "Don't look at me like that, Hermione, you said so yourself that Godric's Hollow is my true home now."

"I wasn't accusing you of anything, Harry," she replied, rolling her eyes, "but I feel like I'm intruding on your home."

"Hermione, I told you before that you were with me both times I returned to Godric's Hollow and both of those times were special and they meant a lot to me. And I feel comfortable going back there with you. I mean, you don't have to come along if you don't want to and all, but-,"

Hermione cut him off as she said, "Harry, I would be happy to go back with you."

She gave him another warm smile to which he returned. He stood to his feet, and held out his hand while saying, "Shall we go then?"

Hermione took his offered hand as he then pulled her into a warm hug. Harry then apparated them away, as unbeknownst to them, they left behind a seething Ginny Weasley, who happened to be listening in on their conversation just outside of the Great Hall.

Miles away, Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared in Godric's Hollow, under a vast sea of bright stars. As the pair made their past the wooden gate and up to the small cottage, they did not see anyone about.

A breeze swept over them as they made their way between the chest-high grass that was swaying softly with the wind.

Harry opened the door and stood back, allowing Hermione to enter before him. As he stepped inside after her and closed the door, he heard her gasp quietly.

On instinct, Harry whipped out his wand and turned to face whatever or whomever Hermione had seen, but instead, he saw her staring at the carpeted floor of the living room. On the carpet, there were two plates, filled to the maximum with a wide collection of foods, as two goblets were placed next to the plates. A vase filled with flowers stood between two brightly burning candles, being that they were the only source of light within the home.

"Harry, it's beautiful," Hermione breathed, taking in the quiet and calm scene before them, "it's like our own little candlelight dinner."

Hermione moved forward and took a seat on the floor as she gestured for Harry to do the same.

"This definitely is different," Harry exclaimed, though he found that he didn't mind the difference at all.

He took a seat on the floor next to Hermione as they both placed their dinner plates in their laps as they leaned back against the couch, both of them feeling completely at ease and content with Kreacher's dinner preparations.

The dug into their dinner as the night calmly continued to exist just outside the cottage's windows.

"Harry, what exactly are you going to tell Ginny," Hermione asked, halfway through their meal.

He looked over at her as he replied, "I dunno yet. It's not like I'm excited to tell her I don't fancy getting back together with her, you know."

"I understand, but, it's just that with Ron saying that Ginny's been waiting for you and now Mrs. Weasley is all but expecting the two of you to get back together, it might be harder to end things with her."

"I know, but Hermione, it's not a relationship that I want to be in," Harry responded, "no matter what Ron or Ginny or Mrs. Weasley might think. And how about you and Ron; what do you plan to say to him?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she said, "I haven't given it too much thought. But, so far, I'm just going to tell him that I don't have romantic feelings for him."

"Did you ever," Harry asked quietly in the semi-darkness of the living room.

Hermione seemed to give his question a long thought before she answered, "Not fully, no. I think that what I felt for him before was a figment of my imagination but it was something that I could have run away with if I needed to."

"Run away with," Harry asked, puzzled.

"I mean that I could have convinced myself that I liked him but, clearly I didn't want to convince myself to like him. He's a good friend and all but I don't think he and I would be very compatible as boyfriend and girlfriend," Hermione explained, her cheeks flushing a light pink at the words 'boyfriend and girlfriend.'

"If the two of us actually became a couple, he would've been my first boyfriend," Hermione finished.

Harry looked over at her in surprise as he asked, "What about you and Viktor?"

"Krum," Hermione asked incredulously, her eyes growing wide.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Harry, Viktor and I were never in a relationship. All he did was ask me to the Yule Ball."

"Didn't you say that you were writing to him during fifth and sixth year?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean him and I were dating. We were just friends writing to one another. He was actually pretty interested in the war and all and he asked me to keep him informed about it."

"But you didn't tell him the war was over?"

Hermione shook her head from side to side as she replied, "I haven't found the chance to yet. But enough about me and Viktor…what about you and Cho?"

"What about me and Cho," Harry asked, feeling his cheeks grow hot.

"Well, didn't you two date," Hermione asked.

Harry thought about it before he said, "Not really. I mean, I did take her on that one date into Hogsmeade that one time but it turned out to be a disaster. That's also when she thought that I had feelings for you…feelings more than friendship, I mean."

At this, Hermione laughed before silence fell upon the pair.

Nearing the end of their meal, Hermione asked, "So you're really thinking about staying here over the summer?"

Harry looked around the living he and Hermione were sitting in before he nodded his head and replied, "Yeah, most definitely. I'm actually going to try and clean it up and bit, especially the outside, with the grass and the gate."

"I actually quite like the grass," Hermione said.

"Hermione, if I don't cut the grass, it'll surely grow right past the roof," Harry said.

"I know, I know, I'm just saying that it adds some uniqueness to your house."

After a few moments of Harry staring at nothing in particular, he stated, "But traveling from here and Hogwarts won't be too hard to do, anyway."

"If you don't return in the fall to Hogwarts, do you think that you'll eventually move here for good?"

"Probably," Harry said, nodding his head, "but I don't know what I'll do with 12 Grimmauld Place though. Sirius left it for me but I don't like the feeling of the place, I never did. It just feels so…cold and distant."

"So will you continue to have Kreacher working in the Hogwarts' kitchen," Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but if I sell Grimmauld Place, won't that mean that I lose Kreacher too," Harry questioned.

Hermione nodded her head and said, "Yes, that's what it means. But I thought you didn't like him, Harry?"

"Well, I think it's safe to say that I've grown fond of him, especially after tonight," he replied with a smile on his face. "Our dinner was delicious."

"It was," Hermione agreed, setting her empty plate down onto the floor, while picking up her goblet and downing its insides. Harry copied Hermione's actions as he too set his dinner plate on the floor. In the next instant, the two empty plates and goblets disappeared into thin air.

Before the young Gryffindors could do anything further, an idea struck Harry as he suddenly turned to Hermione and asked, "Would you like to go for a short walk around the village?"

She looked over at him and nodded her head in answer. The two of them, then picked themselves off the floor of the living room before they exited the cottage, and entered out into the breezy night air.

After passing the chest-high grass and the old, wooden gate, Harry held out his arm as Hermione entwined her arm with his, and the two strolled together down a concrete sidewalk.

Harry felt quite at ease and at peace with himself and his surroundings while walking with Hermione right now. The temperature wasn't too cold nor was it too warm, as only a handful of people, mainly couples, were roaming the wide streets of Godric's Hollow at that hour of night.

Harry and Hermione walked past house after house, as streetlights shone brightly against the night sky. Turning a corner, the pair then passed a rather large collection of shops and small restaurants, teamed together with bright lights.

"What do you think about this place, Hermione," Harry suddenly asked.

"It's quaint and comfortable," she replied softly at his shoulder, "it feels so unlike Grimmauld Place back in London."

"That's what I was thinking too," Harry said, looking ahead of him.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just thinking about my options of where to live," he responded simply. "I think that after everything we have gone through, I just want to live a quiet life. I don't sound like too old of a man, do I?"

Hermione laughed as she responded, "Well, you kind of do, but I guess I can't really blame you for it."

"And what about you? What kind of life do you see yourself living in?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she said truthfully, "Right now, I don't know. I can't say I've given it much thought."

As they turned around to head back to the cottage, another breeze blew over them, and Harry felt Hermione shiver next to him. Harry then disentangled himself from Hermione's arm as he then wrapped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close to his side to give her some warmth.

"Do you think McGonagall is going to want to start the repairs tomorrow," Harry asked, looking down at Hermione.

"I suppose so," she replied, "but I don't think I'm going to be there to help out…at least for the next couple of days."

"You want to go and get your parents, don't you," Harry said, and he felt her nod her head against his side.

"I miss them so much, Harry," she said quietly.

The two remained silent with each other as they made their way back towards Potter's cottage.

Once back inside, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "Thank you for bringing me along, Harry. I enjoyed myself."

"Are you going somewhere," he asked innocently.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts," she replied with a sincere smile.

"But…why?"

"Harry, I've intruded on your home long enough. I don't want to trespass."

"Hermione, you can stay here if you'd like, at least for the night. You don't have to go back to Hogwarts if you don't want to. Of course, if you want to go back then that's fine and all but-," he stopped himself as he realized he was babbling.

"Are you sure it's okay if I stay the night?"

"We spent many nights together when we were going after those horcruxes," Harry stated matter-of-factly, "I don't see any problem with you staying here."

"Thank you, Harry. I think I'll just sleep on the couch in the living room, then," she stated.

Harry rolled his eyes at her and said, while pointing upwards, "Hermione, there is a guest room upstairs. You don't have to take the couch when there's an extra bed."

Hermione looked nervously about as if something was bothering her. Harry placed a hand on her shoulders and repeated, "Hermione, you don't have to feel like you're trespassing here. I'm inviting you to stay the night."

"I know, but where will you sleep then?"

Harry's first thought was his parent's room but after some consideration, he hesitated. He didn't know if he would feel comfortable sleeping on the same mattress his parents did before they were killed. It seemed as if their entire room was sacred.

As Harry's eyes maneuvered towards the couch in the living room, Hermione said, "Harry, don't you even dare consider sleeping on that couch! I think it's best if I sleep there and you take the bed in the guestroom."

Harry put his foot down and said, "Absolutely not. There is no way I'm letting you sleep on the couch. No way."

As the two stared at each other, each not willing to back down on their offers, Hermione suddenly said, "This is getting silly. How about I conjure a mattress and sleep there, then?"

As her idea settled onto Harry, he smiled and said, "I like that idea."

"Great," she stated, making her way to the living room.

Harry flipped on the light switch just before Hermione waved her wand in a fluid motion and a comfortable looking mattress appeared in the middle of the living room. She smiled down at it before another mattress appeared right next to hers.

Turning around, she saw Harry had a wide smile on his face whilst he held his wand in his right hand.

"I never said I wouldn't conjure one myself."

"Harry James Potter," Hermione scolded in a mocking tone, shaking her head from side to side.

"What? It's not like I committed a crime or anything." With another wave of his wand, two sets of red and gold sheets appeared on both of the mattresses.

"A true Gryffindor," Hermione said, looking over at Harry, "but you forgot something."

Harry's eyebrows pulled together as Hermione waved her wand and two pillows appeared on hers and Harry's mattress.

As he nodded in understanding and amusement, Hermione said, "Now since that is done, I think it's time to get washed up."

Harry followed Hermione's routine by brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas (which they had summoned from Hogwarts) before downing a glass of water.

They then filed back into the living room where they settled into their own respective mattresses. Hermione waved her wand and the light went out in the Potter cottage.

Harry removed his glasses and set them on a nearby table as he laid his head down to go to sleep.

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione called out softly in the darkness.

As Harry was about to wish her the same, he instead heard himself say to her, "Hermione, I want to go with you to Australia."

-  
Author's Small Note: Chapter 3 will be posted Saturday night. Thanks for reading.


	3. Beyond Borders

Chapter 3: Beyond Borders

The rays of the sun peeked in through the closed curtains of Potter's cottage. The mid-morning sun started to grow heavier as it lifted higher and higher into the sky, bearing its early heat down upon the village underneath it. A few, stray white clouds drifted across the blue sky that stretched overhead, just as Harry blinked his eyelids awake.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes and putting his round glasses back onto his face, he saw Hermione lying a few feet away from him on a different mattress on the floor of the carpeted living room, yet noticing the position he found himself in while awakening, he established that he and Hermione had subtly drawn closer together during the night, as they lie on their sides facing one another, though they both kept to their respective beds.

Harry looked over at her as she continued to sleep away. He saw cuts and scrapes that lined her face, coupled by a nasty looking graze that colored her neck, with a yellow-purple bruise to complement it.

He breathed lightly as he appreciated the risks Hermione and Ron took for him as they both accompanied him on his journey to end Voldemort. The road to the dark wizard's downfall had been perilous and violent, with the trio escaping the claws of death more than a handful of times.

However, after everything the trio had went through, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had bonded together like never before. The two friends meant a lot to Harry and no words would garner enough respect and admiration Harry had for them.

As Harry turned to lie onto his back, he rested his hands behind his head and thought about how content he was, waking up in his parents' home in Godric's Hollow. After Hermione explained to him last night that he now considered this place his true home, the grounds of Hogwarts castle seemed like a distant memory to him, for he had completely and totally latched onto Potter's cottage and succumbed to its coziness.

Harry heard Hermione moan slightly. He turned to face her to see her stretching her arms before her while giving a wide yawn. She blinked several times before she seemed to realize where she was. She smiled lightly when she noticed Harry looking at her.

"Good morning, Harry," she said softly.

"'Morning," he said back.

"I'm too comfortable to move," Hermione relayed, as she continued to rest her head against her fluffy pillows.

"So am I," Harry responded, "and I have to say that I haven't slept like I did last night in a long time."

"It feels good not to worry about anything, doesn't it," Hermione asked.

"Definitely," he sighed, "I didn't really have a care in the world."

"Did you have any nightmares," she asked tepidly.

Harry thought about this for a while before he shook his head and replied, "Not that I can remember, but I guess that doesn't mean that they won't come, right?"

"Possibly," Hermione said, as Harry saw her face scrunch up in thought, "but there's also a possibility that they won't come at all."

"I'm hoping for that," Harry said, "I hated having those strange visions and dreams I shared with Voldemort, even though they helped occasionally."

"Like with Mr. Weasley back in fifth year?"

"Yeah, just like that," Harry whispered back, shaking uncontrollably as he briefly remembered how he seemed to possess Voldemort's pet snake, Nagini, as she viciously attacked Mr. Weasley while he was on duty for the Order of the Phoenix.

"Hermione," Harry called out suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"I meant what I told you last night before we went to bed…I want to go with you to Australia."

"I also meant what I told you last night, Harry," she said, reiterating his words back to him, "you don't have to come with me. I am capable of doing this alone."

Harry mentally sighed as he stated, "Weren't you the one to always tell me that I didn't have to do everything by myself when we at Hogwarts…that we were in this together?"

Hermione nodded in answer.

"So why is it then, that you won't let me help you when I want to," Harry asked, looking over at her with his bright, green eyes.

"Harry, I just don't want you to feel obligated to help me," she answered. "I didn't know what you planned to do after the war ended and I guess I didn't know if you would be here in England after everything had finished."

Her words struck him back to the conversation he had overheard McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley had in the Hogwarts corridors late last night. McGonagall had told Mrs. Weasley that many people expected Harry to leave England.

"What is it, Harry," Hermione asked, as she noticed his mind was at work.

"Nothing…it's just that McGonagall said something similar last night about how she thought that I was going to leave here after the war," he responded.

Hermione nodded her head at him as she asked, "Did you ever think about it?"

"The thought never really crossed my mind. I guess I never really understood the fact that there's a whole other world outside of England that I could move to."

"Well, their definitely is," Hermione said.

"Which is why I think I should accompany you to Australia, to explore the world outside of England," Harry said.

"Harry, I'm only going there to bring back my parents. I don't plan on voyaging across the globe," Hermione responded in turn.

"I know, but there's always a chance to do so after Hogwarts," Harry replied.

"That's true," she said, "but this trip is strictly to get my parents back and nothing more."

As Harry nodded his head, Hermione stretched once again as she got up from her mattress and said, "But I think it's time that we start our day."

Harry looked up at her and asked, "Didn't you say that you wanted to go today to Australia?"

Hermione nodded her head as she explained, "I did originally plan to wait a few days, but I miss them so much, Harry. I don't know if I can wait any longer."

"Well how are we going to get there?"

"If you are sure that you want to come along, I was thinking about going down to the Ministry of Magic and asking Kingsley for a portkey," she said. "That may be the easiest way."

"Hermione, I'm going with you, unless you definitely don't want me to," Harry said, as he too stood to his feet to stand next to her.

"No, I want you there, Harry, I just didn't want you to feel like you have to come with me."

He smiled at her warmly and said, "I know I don't have to, but I definitely want to."

As Hermione smiled at him, he then asked, "Shall we have some breakfast then?"

She nodded as he then suggested, "Let's get dressed."

"But where are we going to go?"

"To get some breakfast," Harry replied simply, waving his wand and making the two mattresses, sheets, and pillows disappear.

"And where are we going to do that? At Hogwarts?"

Harry thought about her suggestion before he shook his head from side to side. "Not at Hogwarts…how about Diagon Alley? They have quite a few places to eat there."

"That sounds good," she said, "and we can discuss some tactics that I have to get my parents back."

"Tactics," Harry asked, clearly puzzled.

"Well, I erased their memories so they won't have a clue as to who I am. I just can't approach them and say, 'You don't remember me, but my name is Hermione Granger and I'm your daughter. I'm a witch over in England which is where you are from.' They would think that I'm an escapee of sorts."

Harry nodded as he said, "Okay, we'll discuss whatever we need to before we leave, then."

"I don't plan on getting my parents back today," Hermione stated thoughtfully, "as Australia is ahead of us in time. It'll be two or three days before the strategy that I have is going to work. So we should pack what we need for several days."

"Okay, that sounds fine," Harry agreed.

Hermione nodded her head once and headed for the downstairs bathroom, while Harry made his way up the stairs towards the second-story lavatory.

"Let's try to be ready to leave in a couple of minutes," Harry called out, halfway up the stairs.

"I'll just be a moment," Hermione called back, loud enough to make sure that Harry could hear her. "Don't take too long yourself!"

Harry scoffed inwardly, though her words did make him crack a small smile as he entered the bathroom and shut its door softly behind him.

He looked into the mirror of the lavatory and stared at his lightning-bolt shaped scar. He wondered if there was ever going to be a time when he was not going to be synonymous with this scar…he thought to himself that would likely never come to pass. He then sighed before brushing his teeth and trying to tame his raven-black hair before heading back downstairs and into the home's foyer.

"Hermione are you ready," Harry called out as he stretched his arms high over his head.

"Just another minute," he heard Hermione yell.

A few moments later, she met Harry at the front door. "Harry, I think we need to stop by Hogwarts first."

Harry's eyebrows pulled together as he asked, "Why?"

"Well, I think it would be better that when we went to the Ministry of Magic that you had your invisibility cloak with you to avoid everyone's stares and congratulations," she said.

"That's brilliant, Hermione," Harry said, as he nodded his head in agreement.

"Also, we need to pack some clothes to bring with us and while we're at Hogwarts, and I just want to let Professor McGonagall know that we'll be gone for the next couple of days."

"Okay, that's fine. Shall we get a bite to eat or visit Hogwarts first," Harry questioned.

"Hogwarts," Hermione answered.

After her reply, he grabbed her hand and the two apparated away from Godric's Hollow, and headed back towards Hogwarts castle.

Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared on the grounds of Hogwarts. They looked up at its smoldering ruin, seeing that the repairs on the fortress had not yet started.

The pair then entered the citadel when Hermione said, "I think it's best if I go and talk to Professor McGonagall while you go and get your cloak and your clothes. I shouldn't take very long, so let's meet here, at the bottom of the stairs when we're finished."

"What about you? Don't you need your own clothes," Harry asked.

Hermione smiled at his question before she pulled out her small beaded bag from her back pocket and held it up for Harry to see.

"I've always kept it on me," she said, "I guess it's just a habit, I suppose from when we were on the run."

"With an undetectable extension charm?"

"Yes," she replied. "I also have some wizarding money with me as well."

"Okay," Harry agreed, "I'll see you in a bit," and waved good-bye as he and Hermione separated and headed off in opposite directions, with her going to the headmistress's office while he made his way towards Gryffindor tower.

As Harry turned the corner of a lone corridor, however, he found his pathway blocked by Ginny Weasley.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks as his eyes momentarily widened, not expecting to see his previous girlfriend at that precise moment.

"Ginny," Harry breathed out, swallowing hard.

"Harry," she said, her voice somewhat cold, as she nodded her head over at him.

"How are you," he asked, after an awkward moment.

She shrugged her shoulders and replied, "I've been better…much better, actually, than I am right now." She then crossed her arms over her chest as Harry was expecting a confrontation.

"Listen, Ginny, about Fred, I told Ron this last night, but I wanted to say how sorry I am," Harry said.

"Are you," she asked, "are you really sorry that he's gone?"

For a moment, Harry was taken aback by her question before he recovered himself and asked, "Of course I am, why would say something like that?"

"Because, Harry, it seems as if you've forgotten who your true family has been all of these years ever since your first boarded the Hogwarts Express."

"What are you talking about," Harry asked, glaring down at her.

"It feels like you've forgotten about the Weasleys," Ginny remarked.

"I haven't forgotten about anyone," Harry seethed, anger starting to boil down in the depths of his heart.

"Really…then what was last night about when you disappeared with Hermione? Don't look at me like that, Harry, I saw the two of you in the Great Hall," she said, her voice rising with every word she spat out at him. "Did you forget that I'm your girlfriend, because it definitely feels like it?"

At her words, Ginny's eyes started to tear up, her anger taking a backseat towards sadness.

Harry chose his next words carefully, as even though he was angry at Ginny's insistence that he didn't care about the Weasley family, he did understand where she was coming from.

"Ginny, you are I are not together anymore. I told you that after Dumbledore's funeral."

"You implied that it was only temporary and that you wanted to get back together when everything was over. Now it is, Harry. You defeated V-Voldemort; the war has ended," she said quietly, walking slowly towards him.

Harry sighed loudly as he replied, "Listen Ginny, I just can't think of this right now. I have things that I have got to get done."

She nodded solemnly as she then asked, "I understand that, but Harry, I love you. I always have been in love with you. Don't you believe me?"

Harry shook his head from side to side as he said, "Ginny, you're sixteen years old…I don't think you know what love is yet. I don't even know what it is."

"Well then, I guess that's something that I know and you don't. Harry, please promise me that you'll think about us and our relationship that we had before you, Ron, and Hermione left. Think about all of the times by the lake that we shared together, of all of our late night walks around the castle. I remember that, Harry, every time I close my eyes at night. I know that you need your space right now, and I'm willing to give that to you if you can tell me that you still have feelings for me."

Harry looked down at Ginny and deep down inside his heart, he still harbored some feelings for her, just like he told Hermione back at Grimmauld Place. What Harry didn't know was if those feelings would resurface again.

Ginny, however, seemed to sense that Harry still had some feelings for her as she smirked slightly. She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek as she whispered into his ear, "Think of us. I'll never give up on you, so don't give up on me."

After that, she walked away, leaving Harry frozen in the corridor. He blinked several times before he leaned against a concrete wall. For some reason, Harry was feeling like he betrayed himself when he let Ginny kiss him on the cheek. He didn't know why he felt that way, but he did.

Shaking his head in disbelief, he continued to make his way towards Gryffindor tower. When he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, he found that she was lying upside down on the chair she usually occupied, as her head lolled away, close to the floor. She was snoring quite loudly, which drew scandalous looks from the women in nearby paintings. Harry also noticed that two bottles of Turnip Wine were overturned close by her chair.

"Uh, excuse me," Harry called out. When the Fat Lady continued to snore away, Harry said more loudly, "Excuse me…I would like to get in!"

At this, the Fat Lady gave a hoggish snort, as she slumped backwards, off of her chair. She then jumped to her feet and plopped back down in her chair with surprising speed, as she fixed her hair quickly, and said, "I'm sorry my dear, I must've had a wee too much to drink last night. What did you say?"

"I said I would like to enter into Gryffindor tower," Harry replied, trying not to laugh, as a smirk coated his mouth.

The Fat Lady seemed to notice this as she folded her arms across her chest and asked in an overly polite tone, "Password?"

"What? You said that yesterday we didn't need any password to get in!"

"Well, my dear, that was before you decided to rudely interrupt me from my slumber! I would have thought that a young English man like yourself would have better manners because if you must know, we British are better behaved than those one-eyed trolls across the pond in America! Now, if you would like to get in, you need to give me the correct password."

Seeing the Fat Lady after her all-night celebrations, Harry thought she used the term 'one-eyed troll' quite loosely, though he knew better than to voice his opinion on the matter at that moment.

As Harry thought about his situation, he breathed a sigh of relief when the portrait swung open but was then surprised to see Bill Weasley step out of it.

"Harry," he said in shock, "I haven't seen you since the final battle! How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," Harry replied, "I've been around and all. How have you been and how's Fleur?"

"We're doing well ourselves, given everything that has happened. Fleur had a broken arm and several bumps and bruises but Madam Pomfrey fixed her up all right. I came out unscathed."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement at his answer as he looked up at the oldest Weasley, seeing the faded red lines lines crisscross over his face after he was brutally attacked by Fenrir Greyback back in Harry's sixth year. His bright red hair still fell down to his shoulders as he also continued to have a fang hang from his ear.

"Listen, Harry, I want you to know that no one blames you for anything that has happened. War would've come with you or not. In fact, we were all probably better off with you at Hogwarts, than you being somewhere else. Don't take these things, personally, yeah?"

Before Harry could give him an answer, Bill patted Harry's shoulder once before he took off down the hallway.

Harry watched him go before he turned back and entered Gryffindor tower, bolting through the common room before quickly climbing the spiral staircase and up to his dormitory. He swiftly walked over to his trunk and took out his invisibility cloak along with several pairs of clothes, before departing. He rushed towards the entrance hall, where he knew Hermione would be waiting for him after he had taken some unscheduled detours.

He stopped at the top of the stairs to see Hermione sitting by herself at the bottom-most stair, with her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for him.

He smiled before he called out breathlessly, "Hermione!"

She stood up and turned to see him walk down the stairs as she asked, "Harry, what's wrong?"

"What," Harry asked confused.

"Well you're out of breath," she noted.

"No, I just ran here from Gryffindor tower. Sorry I was late," he answered.

"That's okay," she said, "we're not in a hurry or anything."

"Did you talk to McGonagall," Harry questioned, handing over his cloak and clothes to Hermione where she put them in her beaded bag.

"Yes, she said that we should have no problem getting a portkey to Australia but she warned me that the Ministry of Magic is in really bad shape."

"Bad shape," Harry asked, as the pair made their way out of the castle and into the bright sunshine.

"The Ministry is trying to recover after being infiltrated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Hermione continued, "it's nearly in shambles."

"Then I guess it's good that you thought to bring my invisibility cloak," he said to her. Harry then turned to her, holding out his hand and asking, "Shall we go get something to eat then? I'm still hungry."

She rolled her eyes at him before placing her hand in his while smiling. A second later, he apparated them away, as Mrs. Weasley watched the pair behind a third-floor window of the castle, with a deep scowl across her face.

Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared in the familiar walled courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron in London, facing a brick wall, as a dustbin stood to their right.

"Harry, why didn't you just apparate us in," Hermione asked, looking over at him in confusion.

He shrugged his shoulders before replying, "I always liked this entrance," pointing towards the brick wall, "because it was the first time that I actually saw what the wizarding community looked like in London."

As Hermione gave him a smirk, he tapped his wand on the lone brick that would grant them access to Diagon Alley. Suddenly, the walled bricks started to move apart from one another, before it formed a large archway for Harry and Hermione to walk under.

The pair stepped under the portico and made their way down the cobblestone streets, seeing many witches, wizards, and their families about.

During the war, Diagon Alley was left alone by the Death Eaters, with the only exception being Ollivander's capture. However, during that time, the entire place was dim and grey, as it seemed to almost have a cloud of uncertainty hanging over it. Now, Diagon Alley was beginning to return to its former glory, with many different shops being opened and full of business.

Harry and Hermione continued onwards as Harry noticed a fair amount of people were giving him curious looks, as if they didn't know for sure if who they were seeing was actually Harry Potter or someone that looked like him. He brushed his jet-black hair over his scar to keep from getting noticed and bowed his head slightly to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Hermione sensed the drawing looks she too was receiving, as both she and Ron received a fair amount of coverage as they accompanied Harry on his travels over the past year.

She hugged Harry's arm as they silently made their way past various shops, filled with life and color, which was a stark contrast from the cold and bleak days of when the war was raging on.

After turning a corner and walking down a narrow alley barren of any shoppers, the walls of the alleyway parted and the pair entered a different section of Diagon Alley Harry had never ventured to before. He then spotted what looked like a shabby little eatery, with a green, circular sign that hung from a perch that stuck out from its gold plastered exterior which read 'The Raven Café." The cafe was sandwiched between two different shops which seemed to be the only three buildings in this area of Diagon Alley, save for a circular three-story bookstore.

"How about there, Hermione," Harry suggested, pointing to The Raven Café, as he noticed she had unknowingly drifted towards the bookstore.

Hermione snapped out of her stupor, looked over and replied, "Sure."

The pair walked into the café and noticed that it was only half-full, however the patrons inside didn't pay the pair any attention. There was a collection of around a dozen tables with four chairs surrounding each one. The sunshine outside barely entered through the darkened windows of the eatery as Harry and Hermione walked over the tiled floor, sat at a table, and poured over the menu that was situated atop of each table.

After a few quiet moments, Hermione asked, "Do you see anything good, Harry?"

"Well, scrambled eggs with toast and jam sounds good." The instant Harry said this, a plate of two scrambled eggs, along with jam spread over three pieces of toast suddenly appeared before Harry.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he looked around, startled; however, still no one paid them any attention or acted as if anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Hermione was looking over in shock at the full plate of food that unexpectedly materialized, before she cautiously said, "Um, I guess I would fancy a bowl of cereal," and instantly, a large bowl of flakes appeared in front of her, "and two glasses of juice?" Harry noticed how Hermione ordered her food framed within a question, but nonetheless, two glasses of juice appeared before Harry and Hermione as the two began to eat their breakfast.

After Harry swallowed a bite of toast, he looked up at Hermione and said, "So, you said that you had plans of finding your parents?"

She nodded her head as she replied, "Well, when I modified their memories, I implanted an idea that they would open another practice down in Brisbane. I know that it is a large city, so after doing some research, I managed to have them open their practice near the Magical Parliament Monarchy."

"That what," Harry asked in confusion, before taking another bite of his toast.

"The Magical Parliament Monarchy...basically it's Australia's Ministry of Magic," Hermione stated.

"And you had them open their new practice near the Magical Parliament Monarchy," Harry asked, somewhat in awe.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as a light pink colored her cheeks as she replied, "Well, that part was quite difficult but I believe that I did that correctly."

"But how do you plan on talking to them or getting close to them? Like you said before, you can't just go up to your mum and dad and tell them everything."

"I know, I know," Hermione agreed, "I think what we need to do is to create some sort of situation where we accidentally meet."

"Er…I don't think I follow," Harry said.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders again as she said, "Well, it could be anything really. We could bump into them and start a conversation, like how we are new to Brisbane and ask them for places to visit. We could even schedule a dentist appointment with them. It just has to be circumstances where we can talk to them."

Harry then nodded his head in understanding at her words. "You definitely miss them, don't you?"

"More than I had ever imagined. I knew it would be hard to have them move to a different country, but I didn't expect it would feel anything like this," Hermione replied with a sad smile.

"Well, you don't have to wait long anymore to see them again. We may even see them sometime this afternoon."

"That's only if we're lucky," Hermione said.

As the pair finished up their meal, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Do you know how we pay for our breakfast?"

Hermione looked around but didn't see any waiter or waitress in sight. "Um, how about if we just left the money on the table?"

Since Harry didn't have any other idea, he left five galleons and three knuts in the middle of the table, in which both Harry and Hermione noticed the money disappearing in the next moment.

"Well I guess that settles that," Harry said, before leading Hermione out of The Raven Café.

"That was kind of a strange place, didn't you think," Hermione asked, looking up at Harry as they both stepped outside, breathing in the still morning air.

"A bit, yeah," he remarked, looking back at the canteen.

"Just something about it felt really odd. I have to say that whenever we go out to eat again, I'm picking the place," Hermione relayed.

Harry shook his head mockingly at her words before giving her a smile. Holding out his hand, he then asked, "Shall we go to the Ministry then?"

Placing her hand in his, Hermione nodded to him, and together, they apparated away from Diagon Alley.

Arriving in central London, Harry led Hermione around the back of a tattered looking building, towards a red telephone booth next to a smelly dumpster.

Harry opened the doors of the box and gestured for Hermione to step in first, as Harry followed.

"I think it would be best to put on your invisibility cloak now, Harry," Hermione said, as she took out his cloak from her beaded bag.

As Harry hastily wrapped his cloak over himself, obscuring him from any line of vision, Hermione asked, "Oh, I forgot what numbers to press. Do you remember, Harry?"

He racked his brain, trying to think of what buttons to press on the telephone to emit them entrance down into the depths of the ministry.

"I think it's six, two, four, four, two."

Hermione pressed the buttons that Harry listed, in which afterwards, the cool voice of a woman rang around the booth, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

Hermione looked around nervously before saying, "Um, my name is Hermione Granger and I am here to see the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Thank you. Visitor, please take the guest badge and attach it to the front of your robes," the cool voice said again.

A badge then slid out of the chute where one would usually collect coins from. Hermione picked it up and attached it to her t-shirt, as Harry looked over at it and saw that the badge read _Visitor Hermione Granger, Minister Affairs_.

"Please note that all visitors must require a wand investigation at the security desk, located at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a magical day," the cool voice finished, as suddenly, the telephone box started to slowly sink towards the ground. As the pavement rose up above their heads, Harry and Hermione were momentarily cast in complete darkness.

"Hopefully this doesn't take too long," Hermione stated, as the booth slowly but surely crept down into the depths of magical London.

"I dunno how long it's going to take," Harry replied, "I guess it also depends on how fast we can find Kingsley."

Hermione nodded her head at his words as a golden light suddenly appeared at the bottom of the box. The light continued to intensify as the telephone booth emerged into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic.

As the box came to a final halt, Hermione opened the doors as she whispered, "Stay close to me."

Harry nodded his head before he realized that she couldn't see him. "Right," he then said, confirming he had heard her.

Hermione and an invisible Harry took off, walking on a dark, polished wood floor, as witches and wizards would randomly surface out of the many fireplaces situated alongside the black, tiled walls of the atrium in bright, emerald green flames.

Harry noticed that there seemed to be an air of intense apprehension and anxiety that hung in the atmosphere of the Ministry. Workers didn't seem to greet one another, as instead, after springing out of the many fireplaces, they sprinted towards the golden gates of the lifts.

As the pair passed by the colossal statue of the new Magical Brethren, Hermione whispered, "I think it's over here, Harry."

Sure enough, she led him over to a desk which bore a sign that read 'Security.' Hermione walked up to a young man with brown, shoulder-length hair and a slowly growing mustache. The man was resting his head against his fist, as his mouth was set in what seemed like a permanent pout.

"Yes," the young man drawled, looking thoroughly uninterested.

"I was told that I needed to present my wand to security for it to be checked," Hermione stated.

"Right," the man said, slowly getting to his feet and beckoning for Hermione to step around his desk. "Hold out your arms, miss."

She did as she was told as the man lazily passed a thin, golden rod over Hermione. After he finished this, he held out his hand and said, "Wand."

Hermione handed her wand over as the man placed it on a small scale. A small strip of parchment suddenly appeared in which the young man grabbed it, and read aloud, "Ten and three-quarter inches, made of vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. Sound familiar?"

"That's my wand," Hermione stated in a clipped tone.

"Wonderful," the young man stated, waving her away.

As the pair made their way towards the golden lifts, Harry looked back at the Security desk and saw that the man placed his head against his fist again, while reattaching his pout back onto his face.

Hermione whispered feverishly, "They seem to be extremely lax in terms of new hires. That man probably wouldn't have minded even if the entire Ministry caved in! I mean, honestly, I know that the war is over but how incredibly negligent!"

Hermione and an invisible Harry made their ways towards the golden lifts, in which a large group of workers were waiting before each one.

Hermione assessed the scene before them before she said, "Hmm, oh, how about over there, Harry! It doesn't seem to be that crowded."

Harry followed Hermione over to a lift all the way to their right, as only a small huddle of people seemed to have congregated before it.

Just as they arrived, the lift rattled loudly against its golden grills. A moment later, the small group of people made their way inside the lift, with Harry and Hermione filing in last.

As the doors slammed shut, Harry leaned down and whispered to Hermione in a quiet voice, "Level one, I think."

Hermione reached out her finger and pushed the button that bore a '1" on it. Soon after she did this, the lift plunged downward.

As the lift throttled about, a tiny old wizard suddenly tapped Hermione on her shoulder. She turned around as he said, "I think you're the one they call 'Hermione', aren't you? Part of the 'Golden Trio' that freed our world from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Hermione stuttered for a moment before he continued, "I just wanted to thank you and your friends, Ron, and especially that Harry Potter, for everything you have done for wizarding Britain! I am now comforted at night, knowing my three granddaughters are safe from the clutches of You-Know-Who! You three are famous!"

"Oh, um, thank you," Hermione replied softly, clearly surprised.

"Oh no, my dear, thank you," the aged wizard squeaked. "If you ever do see that one Harry Potter, please pass on my sincere gratitude."

Suddenly, the lift stopped as a cool female voice said, "Level One, Minister of Magic and Administrative Staff."

Hermione stepped out of the lift, accompanied by Harry, as the old wizard squeaked to her retreating back, "Have a jolly day, my dear!"

Hermione turned around and said with a small wave of her hand, "Thank you, and the same to you."

The golden grills then clanged shut on the wizard's cheerful face as the lift soared upwards.

"Can you imagine what he would have been like if he actually saw you," Hermione said quietly to Harry, as the pair made their way down a large hallway, walking on top of a purple carpet.

"I'd imagine he would try to marry one of his granddaughters off to me," Harry replied, still under his invisibility cloak.

Hermione laughed as they passed numerous closed doors, as she looked at each chrome plaque fixated onto each one. The hallway was eerily quiet as Harry thought it was possible that he and Hermione were only two living souls down on this level of the Ministry.

Hermione seemed to voice his thoughts for she suddenly asked, "Do you think Kingsley will be in his office, Harry?"

"I dunno," he replied, "maybe and maybe not."

However, in answer, a door a few paces ahead of them suddenly opened as Harry and Hermione saw both Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley step out of.

"Just remember what I said to you, Arthur," Shacklebolt said in his deep voice, as a single gold loop hung down from his left ear.

"Of course, I will, Minister; I'll talk about it with Molly tonight."

It was then that they turned and noticed Hermione, seemingly by herself, before them.

"Hermione," Arthur called out, with a smile set upon his face, "what are you doing down here?"

"Good morning, Mr. Weasley, but I was hoping I could speak to Minister Shacklebolt," she replied with a smile.

"Oh, of course, of course, how silly of me," he responded. He then turned to Shacklebolt and said with a slight incline of his head, "Minister, good day to you."

"And the same to you, my friend," he replied calmly.

As Arthur disappeared down the hallway, Shacklebolt focused his attention to Hermione and said, "Come in, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter," standing aside to let them both pass into his office.

Surprised, Harry pulled off his cloak once they were all inside his office and asked, "You knew I was there?"

"Quite," he replied.

"But…how," Harry questioned.

"It made sense for you to accompany Miss Granger to the Ministry, though I am surprised that Mr. Weasley is not with you," he replied simply. "Since you wouldn't want to be bothered by any workers after the final battle, it would only be logical to bring along your cloak with you."

"You knew about my cloak," Harry then asked, as Kingsley gestured for Harry and Hermione to take a seat in two chairs, while he walked around his desk to take a seat himself.

"Many people did," Kingsley said, "especially those at Hogwarts."

Harry frowned at his statement as he continued, "Mr. Potter, you have always been quite the celebrity in our world, as I'm sure you can attest to, though your status of popularity has never been as high as it is right now."

Harry nodded his head in agreement as he said, "Yeah, we just met one of our admirers in the lifts just now. Well...Hermione met him."

Hermione intervened and asked, "How is the Ministry doing? Professor McGonagall told me earlier this morning that there were a lot of adjustments to be done."

"She is quite right, though, since the final battle had just ended, I cannot say how long it is going to take for the Ministry of Magic to stand upright again. However, I do have plenty of new ideas to put in practice, the most recent of which is the appointment of Arthur Weasley as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

At this, both Harry and Hermione turned to each other in surprise, their eyes wide, and their eyebrows reaching towards their hairlines.

"Surprised," he asked politely, clasping his hands together.

"Well, yes, but surprised in a good way," Hermione responded.

"Yes, I think it is time that Arthur finally got the recognition he deserves in the Ministry," Kingsley explained.

"But didn't he like to head the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects," Hermione asked.

"He did, but I must let you both in on a little secret: the head of the Department of Law Enforcement makes quite a bit more in salary. But let's just keep that between the three of us."

They both nodded their heads in understanding as Kingsley then turned his attention to Hermione and asked, "Now, Miss Granger, what is it that you wanted to see me about?"

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "Well, before the war started, I sent my parents away to Australia after I modified their memories just to keep them safe from what was happening here. But now, I want to go and get them back. So, I wanted to ask you for a portkey that would take Harry and me to Brisbane, if that is possible."

For a moment, Kingsley look surprised at Hermione's admission before he mentally recovered and said, "Of course, Miss Granger that can be easily arranged. I actually have the perfect object for this."

Kingsley reached down and opened the bottom-most drawer of his desk and pulled out a golden pocket watch.

Seeing the puzzled expressions on the faces of Harry and Hermione, Kingsley said, "I found this in my desk yesterday. I think it was Rufus Scrimgeour's before his untimely murder by Voldemort some time ago. However, after his family came to collect his belongings, they apparently didn't want this back. I always meant to throw it away but the war caught my undivided attention. Nevertheless, this will be your portkey to Brisbane. You will arrive in Australia's Magical Parliament Monarchy. But, this is also your portkey back home to London. To come back, just tap your wand against this three times and say very clearly ' _PORTUS VIVI_.'"

Kingsley put the pocket watch on his desk, took out his wand, pointed it at the pocket watch and said in his deep voice, " _PORTUS_." Instantly, the pocket watch jangled against the wooden desk while glowing a bright blue, before becoming still.

"Your portkey will depart in one minute," he said, "and please make sure not to lose this, as this is your fastest way home."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, giving him a small smile.

"It is no problem, Miss Granger. You have done your fair share in this war. Go find your parents and bring them home," Kingsley said, giving her a smile of his own.

Harry and Hermione placed a finger on the pocket watch before it began to clatter again. Suddenly, Harry felt a hook behind his navel as the portkey departed. The setting around Harry and Hermione changed drastically as the pair was traveling away from London and towards Brisbane.

Little did Harry and Hermione know that their trip to Brisbane, Australia would be their last.

* * *

Author's Note: I initially intended Harry and Hermione's adventure to Australia to be one chapter, but I soon realized that the chapter was just too long (it would've been almost 20,000 words!). Therefore, I split the chapter up into three parts. Part 2 of this chapter will be posted in the afternoon while part 3 will be posted early tonight. Thanks for reading.


	4. Where Hearts Lie

Chapter 4: Where Hearts Lie

The room, if one could call it that, had just three walls in which the walls were of a light beige color. Instead of bearing a fourth wall, this room instead had no fourth wall but a wide open space in its place. Harry and Hermione landed in this very room with a soft _THUD_ as they arrived in Australia, many miles away from home.

After Harry pocketed the portkey watch, the pair slowly circled around, seeing the three windowless walls, as they then found themselves staring up at a squared metal archway, in which the word 'Arrivals' was printed against, in big silver letters.

Harry and Hermione ventured under the metal arch and down a long hallway, which housed no doors or windows, before the passageway opened up into a wide clearing. This open space contained a single desk, as Harry noted that another hallway was situated behind it.

A newspaper titled 'The Aussie Magical Press' obscured the witch or wizard that sat behind the desk. However, at the sound of approaching footsteps, the newspaper was set down, as Harry and Hermione then saw an aged witch. Her curly white hair was stacked in piles on top of her head, which largely represented a beehive, and in which at least five different quills were sticking out of. The witch also had round cheeks that looked as if they were home to two tennis balls. Her caramel-colored eyes peered over at Harry and Hermione from behind white-trimmed glasses.

"May I help you two," she asked, in a clear voice.

"Yes, um, my name is Harry and this is Hermione," Harry started, gesturing towards the two of them, "and we just arrived here from the Ministry of Magic in London. We're here to visit family."

"Hmm," the witch said, holding out her right hand in which one of the quills flew out of her pile of hair and into her hand. She started writing on a piece of parchment as she asked, "What is the expected duration of your visit?"

Harry looked over at Hermione as she answered, "No more than three days."

The witch nodded, in which Harry noticed her pile of hair wobbled dangerously.

"And you say you are here to visit family," she asked, looking up at the pair.

"Yes," Harry replied, nodding his head.

"What are their names," she asked.

"Daniel and Emily Granger," Hermione answered, "they're Muggles."

"Muggles, yes," the witch reiterated, as she made more notes on her piece of parchment. "And you said you are from London?"

"That's right," Hermione answered again.

"Did you hear about that war that had just ended over there," the old witch asked, "what a terrible tragedy…just some nasty piece of business."

At this, Harry and Hermione shared a look that went unnoticed by the witch.

"Yes, well anyway, is this your first time either of you have visited Australia?"

Harry and Hermione both nodded in answer.

"Very well, very well. I should tell you then that the wizarding community in Australia is quite small. Just outside of the Magical Parliament Monarchy, which you both are standing in at this very minute, we have a small town called The Castellum. There, we have a small tavern by the name of Impi's Inn if you need a place to stay. Do you have any questions?"

"Is there a place where we can exchange our money? I think that tomorrow we're going to be traveling around by Muggle transportation, but all we have is wizarding money," Hermione replied.

"Oh, not to worry, my dear, I can help you there," the witch said, holding out her hand.

Hermione retracted some of her money from her beaded bag, while she and Harry placed their currency into her hands.

"Just a moment," she said, as she placed the money before her, took out her wand, and gave it a merry wave. Instantly, the money transformed into Australian dollars.

"There you go," she called out happily, handing the money over to Hermione. "Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No, I think that's everything," Hermione stated, giving her a small smile.

"Well, then, just follow this hallway towards the atrium where you will find your exit out into Castellum. I wish the both of you a very good night!"

Harry and Hermione then parted ways with the witch with small waves of their hands and followed her instructions as they walked down the hallway and towards the atrium. Harry looked back over his shoulder to see the quill the witch had been writing with fly up to her pile of hair, where it nestled itself comfortably.

"Well that went pretty well," Hermione stated, looking quickly at Harry.

"Did you expect any trouble," he questioned.

"No, but you never know what could happen. We are in a different country which has different laws and procedures pertaining to witches and wizards. There's always a chance for problems to arise."

"Did you know that the wizarding community here is small," Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head as she responded, "I had no idea. But I guess that make sense considering Australia's population is smaller than England's."

As Harry nodded his head in understanding, Hermione suddenly turned to him and asked, "Harry, you still have the pocket watch Kingsley gave you, right?"

In answer, Harry pulled out the small golden watch, and showed it to Hermione. "Do you want to hold on to it? Maybe you could put it in your bag?"

"Of course," Hermione said, taking their portkey from Harry, "no problem."

As Hermione placed the golden pocket watch in her beaded bag, Harry looked over at her and asked, "So, Hermione, where do we start in trying to find your parents?"

"Well, I was hoping we could ask the owner of Impi's Inn if he or she knew of popular Muggle areas, and start our search there for my parents. That's where we begin. Then, if they aren't in the more populated areas, we can expand our search farther out," she answered.

"Do you think there's a small chance that your mum and dad decided to move away from Brisbane and to a different city in Australia," Harry asked.

"That's definitely a possibility, but I have a feeling they stayed here," she answered back.

"Okay, that sounds like a plan then. Shall we start right now or do you want to start tomorrow?"

At his question, Hermione smiled and asked, "Harry, what time do you think it is right now?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he answered, "Oh, I dunno, sometime in the afternoon?"

Hermione laughed as she said, "No, it's a bit later than that. Brisbane is around nine hours ahead of London. We left the Ministry right before noon, as we both woke up a little late. It's probably either around nine or slightly after nine right now. I'm guessing we were one of the last people to arrive here before the Magical Parliament Monarchy closed for the night. That's why the witch back there wished us a good night."

The pair continued to walk along the passageway before it opened into a large atrium. Looking around, Harry and Hermione saw that the atrium was made completely of glass. From the tall ceilings to the wooden floors, large panes of glass formed a wall, separating those inside and those outside the Magical Parliament Monarchy. Harry could see the small Castellum village just past the windowed walls, with its bright lights framed against the dark sky.

Harry saw that many different hallways led off in different directions to different parts of Australia's Ministry of Magic.

"Let's go, Harry," Hermione said, taking his hand and walking out of the Magical Parliament Monarchy. After the exited, they walked down a long flight of wide stone steps, as the building for the Magical Parliament Monarchy was atop of a small hill. They noticed then that a large clock tower was positioned at the foot of Australia's Ministry, with its purple hands pointing at the time 9:05.

As they set foot on the cobblestone streets, Harry and Hermione saw a small collection of people meandering about within the village. Two-story brick buildings lined these narrow streets, leading off to different blocks packed with a wide array of shops and eateries.

Walking past what looked like a small wizard's theatre, Harry saw a narrow sign that blazed in bright red letters 'Impi's Inn.'

"Over there, Hermione, look," he pointed out.

Hermione followed his gaze and saw the two-story tavern directly ahead of them.

"Nice going, Harry," she stated, as he smiled over at her.

Hand-in-hand, Harry and Hermione entered Impi's Inn, escaping the dark night that reigned supreme outside.

Harry's first impression of the inn was that it was quite cozy, as it distinctly reminded him of The Leaky Cauldron back in London. The first floor of the inn had four large couches and at least half a dozen cozy armchairs, all stationed near a large fireplace. There were windows on each wall that gazed out at the streets of Castellum.

Walking up to the desk, Harry also noticed that an opening to his left housed the inn's dining quarters.

"How may I help you dears out tonight," a middle-aged witch said, smiling over at them in a polite manner, who Harry guessed was the owner.

"We were hoping we could rent a room for two nights," Hermione said, looking over at Harry standing next to her.

"Of course, of course! Room 312 is empty right now. How about that room, yeah?"

"That sounds fine," Hermione responded. "How much is it?"

"That'll be ten galleons honey," the innkeeper said, as Hermione reached into her beaded bag and pulled out the necessary money before handing it over.

"Thank you, and here the two of you are," she replied, handing Harry a key, "your room will be up the stairs, taking an immediate right, and down at the end. Just for your information, the dining hall will close before midnight. Enjoy your stay!"

"Thanks," Harry replied, as he and Hermione walked behind the witch's desk and traveled up the wooden stairs. Taking their first right, they made their way along a blue carpet, as closed doors lined the hallway their room was in. At the end, they reached their destination, as its door had the numbers '312' in gold plastered against it.

Harry turned the key and opened the door to let Hermione in first. He shut the door after he entered and took in the room: it was quite small, with a lone carpet situated in the middle, where a small brown coffee table, a tan couch, and a red armchair stood atop of. A small coat rack stood against a lone wall, while a door to their left housed a bathroom, completed with a small sink pedestal, a round mirror, and a tiny squared shower. A large window pane was implanted within a far wall, its white curtains drawn against the night outside. A queen-sized bed stood feet away from the window, while a small kitchenette against an opposite wall finished off their room.

"It feels a lot different from Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow, doesn't it," Hermione asked quietly.

"A little too different for my liking, actually," Harry responded, "but it won't be for that long anyway."

Hermione nodded her head as she said, "Yeah, you're right, Harry." Hermione removed her beaded bag from her back pocket and set it down on the coffee table. "Are you hungry? Did you want to grab a bite to eat before the dining hall closes?

"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed, before the pair walked over to the door and exited.

Making their way along the hall, Hermione turned to Harry and asked, "So, what are your first impressions of the world outside of London?"

Harry thought about this before he responded, "Well, like you said before, it's definitely different. Before we left, I guess I didn't really have any expectations about other wizarding communities."

Hermione nodded in understanding as the pair made their way down the wooden staircase and past the innkeeper's desk to walk into the nearly vacant dining hall.

A large table packed with a wide assortment of foods and drinks stood to their right, as both Harry and Hermione walked away from it, each with a large bowl of cereal and a cup of pumpkin juice in hand.

As they started eating at a lone table, Harry asked, "Hermione, have you seen any other wizarding communities outside of London?

She shook her head from side to side as she replied, "No, I haven't. Although, the times that my parents and I traveled to Paris, I always wanted to visit their small village they have there."

"There's one in Paris," Harry asked in surprise.

"Harry, I'm sure there are small pockets of witches and wizards all over the world. It isn't confined to just London. It actually isn't even confined to Europe."

As Harry took in this information, Hermione added as an afterthought, "But I think the community in London might be one of the largest."

"You know, Hermione, I don't think I ever asked you about your vacations you took with your mum and dad," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Harry, you had more pressing problems to deal with than think about the trips I took with my parents," Hermione said, waving away his words.

"I know, but…I don't know, never mind," he finished lamely. Deep in his heart, he wanted to tell Hermione something that had been bugging him ever since the final battle finished but his head, for some reason, kept holding these words back.

"What is it, Harry," Hermione asked quietly, as she peered over at him.

Looking down at his half-eaten bowl of cereal, he said, "Back in sixth-year when you were fighting with Ron, you said something that I always remembered."

"What did I say," Hermione questioned.

Harry sighed as he relayed, "You said that I always took Ron's side whenever you and him were arguing."

Harry briefly looked up at her as she was staring at him with wide eyes. Then, she quietly nodded her head a few times before she said, "Yeah, I remember that. But what do you mean by it?"

"Sometimes, back when we were at Hogwarts and Voldemort had already returned, I felt as if I didn't appreciate all you had done for me. I mean, you've helped me ever since first-year, before you and I were even friends. I just always wanted to tell you that your friendship meant a lot to me, more than I could ever express in words."

Harry felt the back of his neck grow hot as Hermione's face broke into a small smile, as her eyes started to water.

"That's what friends do for each other, Harry. You didn't have to tell me."

"Yes, I did, Hermione. Because you were right, I did take Ron's side most of the time, even though I knew he was wrong and you weren't. I don't know why I did that or why I always agreed with him. You always had my safety as your first priority."

"Well, you and Ron had a knack of landing yourselves into trouble. But, Harry, I think you went along with him because he was your first, true best friend. Before you found out about the wizarding world and all, you always said you were lonely. Then Ron came along, and you paired up with him. I was just a bossy little know-it-all."

"You were definitely a know-it-all," Harry remarked, as Hermione shot him a mocking glare.

"The point I'm try to make, Harry, is that you trusted both Ron and I by telling us about Voldemort's horcruxes and took us along with you when you went searching for them. I don't think I can even express how much that meant to me."

"Yeah, but when we were away, it wasn't exactly like we were on a camping trip," Harry retorted. "We were in immediate danger almost all the time."

"Even so, you trusted us enough. That means a lot, Harry."

He nodded, though for some reason, he still felt troubled that he couldn't truly express his appreciation for Hermione.

After they finished their food in silence, the pair headed back up to their room, where Hermione and Harry both took their respective turns in the washroom, and changed into their pajamas before they decided to call it a night.

"So, Hermione, er, would you like me to sleep on the couch then, since there is only one bed," Harry asked, as his cheeks flushed.

Hermione looked back before she said, "No, Harry, you take the bed and I'll take the couch."

"No way! You paid for the room so you get the bed and I'll sleep on the couch."

Hermione shook her head back and forth, as she replied, "It was your money, too. The couch doesn't even look all that comfortable, though I think I can manage."

"Hermione, I slept under the stairs of my aunt and uncle's home for nearly eleven years! I think I can manage sleeping one night on an uncomfortable couch."

"Well I'm not taking the bed, Harry, it just wouldn't be right," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest, not willing to back down.

Harry, in turn, glared over at her, frustrated that she wouldn't sleep on the bed.

"Fine, have it your way, then," he said in aggravation, as he waved his wand, making a mattress appear on the floor of their room, coupled with a pillow and some bed sheets. He laid down in a huff and faced away from Hermione.

Suddenly, Harry felt a soft wind at his back. Confused, he turned over to see that Hermione had conjured herself a mattress, with a pillow and sheets herself.

Harry rolled his eyes as he asked, "Is it so hard to just sleep on the bed?"

"I could ask you the same question, Harry! I told you that you could have the bed!"

"Hermione, what kind of friend would I be if I took the bed while you slept on the couch?"

"A good friend, actually, since you did pay for this room," she whispered back harshly.

"So did you!"

"Harry, this is silly. We've got a big day tomorrow and I just want to get some sleep," she said, turning away from him in irritation.

Harry then turned away from her in a hassle.

For a while, all Harry could do was stare at their room door in the darkness, for he was still wound up from his argument with Hermione. He thought to himself why it was so hard to her to listen? Why did she have to counter his every suggestion? It was just like last night when the two were in Godric's Hollow, and she insisted that she would sleep on the couch.

However, ever so slowly, sleep finally came like a shadow in the Forbidden Forest, as Harry closed his eyes and drifted away.

After what seemed like mere minutes, Harry felt a brisk chill blowing against him. Peeking open his eyelids, he found that he was shivering slightly. Turning around, he then saw that Hermione's mattress was unoccupied. He looked over towards the lavatory but saw that its light had not been turned on.

Casting away his bed sheets, Harry stood up and observed that the white curtains of the large window were blowing softly against a night breeze. Silently making his way over, he spotted Hermione leaning against a small guardrail of a tiny terrace he did not know their room was equipped with.

"Hermione," Harry called out softly.

She jumped, clearly unaware that Harry was awake.

"Harry, what are you doing up," she asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," he nodded over at her, as he made his way onto the veranda.

She rolled her eyes before responding, "I'm just taking in Brisbane," turning her head away from him to gaze at the dark night among the bright city lights.

Harry and Hermione looked at the landscape of the city, in which dazzlingly lit towers roared towards the black sky that was painted above, while the moon could be seen off in the distance. The pair felt like two small beings, a part of a much larger city, sprawling with people going about their lives they lived at night.

"They're out there somewhere, Harry. I can feel it," Hermione stated in a somber tone.

Harry looked over at her. Something in her voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

After a solid moment of silence, she continued, "But I'm worried."

"Worried about what," he asked gently.

"That they won't remember me," she stated.

"Why would say something like that," Harry posed.

"Even though I was and still am a bossy know-it-all, there was always this little voice in my head that seemed to will me to fail. It was almost as if it knew my deepest desires were to succeed and that I was afraid to be unsuccessful. Literally, most of my life surrounds the love I have for my parents and everything hangs in the balance of me finding them tomorrow."

"Hermione, ever since I've known you, you have always pulled through in succeeding. Why should this time be any different?"

"Because, Harry, there's always a first for everything."

"You shouldn't talk like that," he said more harshly than he had intended to, "you're talking as if you almost expect not to find your parents."

"And what if I don't? Harry, I took a big chance in modifying their memories and sending them away from home. What if something happened to them while they were here?"

"You took a chance to send them to safety, away from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the war back home. That takes a lot of bravery to do, Hermione. You did what you thought was best for your parents."

"You know, after they left, I tried to always remind myself that what I did was the right thing to do. But lately, maybe it would have been better if I just kept them at home in London."

"That would've been a big risk to take," Harry replied.

"I know, but I'm just wondering if I made the right decision for them. What if something happened to their memories that are irreversible? What if they don't remember me?" Hermione again whispered her last question over at Harry.

"Hermione, if your parents are anything like you, I'm sure they'll have no problem remembering who you are. You're the brightest witch that I know. There's no possibility that I can see in which you don't get your parents back."

"I hope so, Harry," Hermione said.

After they fell silent, another cool breeze swept over them.

"You know, back at Hogwarts, I ran into Mrs. Weasley," Hermione suddenly remarked.

"What did she say," Harry asked.

At this, Hermione smiled as she responded, "She wanted to know how Ron and I were doing…as a couple."

"But the two of haven't even begun dating, have you," Harry commented, as he racked his brain, trying to remember if Ron and Hermione had ever truly confessed their feelings for one another in front of Mrs. Weasley.

"No, we haven't, but during sixth year, I mentioned to Ginny that I still had feelings for Ron."

"Still?"

"Well, I guess I always had feelings for Ron for quite some time, and when I saw him kissing Lavendar, that's when I knew I had a crush on him."

"And what about now?"

"Now…I don't feel anything but friendship towards him. Unfortunately, I think that he doesn't see it that way."

"Is that what you told Mrs. Weasley," Harry asked.

"No, not at all. She seemed so hopeful that Ron and I were dating and all, that I just didn't have the heart to tell her that we aren't together like that…actually, I didn't have the heart to tell her that we aren't together at all."

"So what did you say to her?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "All I told her was that everything was fine. Of course, she probably took that to mean that Ron had mistreated me somehow and she left to most likely go reprimand him."

"Actually, I ran into Ginny back at Hogwarts also," Harry stated.

Hermione turned to look at him as she asked, "And how did that go?"

"Worse than I would have wanted: she's still hoping that we're going to get back together soon enough," Harry answered.

Hermione nodded as she explained, "Well, I guess that makes sense. She told me at Bill and Fleur's wedding that after the war was over, the two of you would get back together again."

"But that's exactly the problem, Hermione: with Ginny, something didn't feel right about our relationship," Harry remarked.

"What do you mean?"

"I dunno exactly, but it somehow felt forced in a way, like it wasn't natural. I mean, I've always seen Ginny as Ron's little sister. Then suddenly, during sixth year, I started seeing her differently."

"Well, she did grow up, Harry, and maybe it's possible that you just didn't notice her until then," Hermione replied.

"I don't think it's that," Harry said, shaking his head slightly, "it felt like it was something else."

"Well did you tell her you weren't interested in getting back together with her?"

"In a way…I told her that I needed more time," Harry answered. "And I do…the last thing I want to do right now is think about our relationship. I still feel weighed down by the war. I don't even know when I'll be ready to start a relationship again."

"Harry, if she loves truly loves you, then she'll wait."

"She did tell me that she loves me. But for whatever reason, I think she loves the idea of me instead of well, me, if that makes any sense."

"Are you saying that she loves the idea of 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Chosen One' instead of Harry Potter," Hermione asked.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Harry, do you remember what I told you back when we first returned to Hogwarts?"

Harry thought for a moment before he replied, "You told me that I could just be myself, instead of accepting any titles the community gave to me."

"That's right. Harry, when you're with the right person, you don't have to change for them and that person doesn't have to change for you…you accept each other as you are. Relationships are all about compromises because no one is perfect."

"So then, how do I know if Ginny is the right one," Harry asked.

"I think you already do know, Harry, but you're afraid of hurting her," Hermione replied, "just like I am with Ron."

"So then, are we stuck – you with Ron and me with Ginny?"

"Only if we allow ourselves to be," she said simply. "They're hurting so much, Harry, their whole family is with what happened to Fred. I think that Mrs. Weasley wants what every mother wants for her children and that is she wants what is best for them. In terms of relationships and love, she pictures Ginny ending up with you and Ron ending up with me."

"I just don't see that happening, Hermione. Everything's changed since the war; in fact, I'm pretty sure things have been changing ever since Voldemort first came back during the Triwizard Tournament."

"I know everything's changed Harry, but I'm positive that's what Mrs. Weasley wants what's best for Ron and Ginny."

Harry shook his head and he said in a cold tone, "You know what, I'm so sick of doing what other people think I should do. Most of my life seemed as if I was never under control of what had happened to me, or my family and friends. When does that end, Hermione? When can I finally live the life that I've always dreamed of, in which I am in control and nobody else is?"

"You can start right now and take control of your life. But, Harry, you always had a choice, you know that right?"

"Really, because it sure seemed like people were making all of my choices for me," Harry spat out.

Hermione shook her head, ignoring his last comment, as she continued, "Do you really think, Harry, that Professor Dumbledore would have forced you into fighting Voldemort if you weren't prepared for it?"

"It had nothing to do with that, Hermione. The prophecy said that I was the only one that could finish Voldemort off."

"Exactly, Harry, but you always had a choice! Just because the prophecy stated you were the one to end him, it didn't mean that you had to do it!"

Harry looked over at Hermione as if she had lost her mind. "Of course it did! Why else do you think that prophecy was even made then?"

"Harry, why exactly did you go and hunt for horcruxes," Hermione asked, her eyes, Harry noticed, had started to blaze.

"To finish Voldemort," he answered.

"And why did you want to finish Voldemort," Hermione asked back.

"Because he was out to kill me! He killed my parents and was responsible for so many other deaths, including Dumbledore's!"

"Exactly! Don't you see it, Harry? You went to search for horcruxes to finish Voldemort on your own accord! You made that choice in order to save the wizarding world from him! You wanted to protect your friends, Harry, and the people that cared for you. You made that decision on your own, even if you didn't know it at the time. What I'm trying to say is Harry, is that you've always been in control of your life. You made a decision to face Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest all on your own. But the truth of the matter is that your decisions will have consequences, good and bad."

Harry thought over the words Hermione had been trying to drill in his head. It was true, that Harry wanted to save the wizarding world from the threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but he always thought that that was what he had to do, what he must do, instead of making a choice to end Voldemort once and for all.

Hermione turned her attention away from Harry to focus on the cityscape that lay before her. She sighed in Harry's silence, as she gave him one more look before turning around and walking back inside their room to lie on her mattress.

After another few moments, Harry sighed on his own, his mind jumbled with so many different thoughts, as he too turned around and walked over to his mattress.

As he laid his head back on his pillow, he said softly into the darkness, "Good night, Hermione."

He shut his eyes as sleep quickly took him, so fast indeed, that he didn't hear Hermione whisper back, "Good night, Harry."

* * *

The following morning, Harry and Hermione awoke at the same time. As sunlight poured into their small hotel room, they both rubbed the sleep out of their eyes.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said, sitting crossed-legged on her mattress.

"'Morning," Harry yawned, "do you know what time it is?"

Hermione looked towards the room's kitchenette and saw that it was 10:15 in the morning.

"Just after ten," Hermione replied.

After a moment, Harry looked intently over at her and asked, "Are you ready for this?"

"It's now or never, isn't it," she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

Harry nodded his head at her as he stood to his feet and helped Hermione to hers.

"When did you plan to leave," Harry asked.

"Let's do so within the next ten minutes. I have a plan," she responded.

After a nod from Harry, the two took turns in the washroom, and got dressed, as Hermione grabbed her beaded bag from the coffee table and exited the room after Harry. They made their way along the carpeted hallway and down the wooden staircase, as Hermione marched towards the innkeeper's desk.

"Good morning, but my friend and I wish to visit Muggle Brisbane but we don't know how to do that," Hermione said.

"Oh, not to worry my dears, it is quite easy! Now what you do is you follow the main road of Castellum and at the end of it, you'll see an entrance to what Muggles call a 'parking garage', whatever that is. All you have to do is go inside the garage and out the other end and you'll be in Muggle Brisbane!"

"Doesn't the parking garage ever close," Harry asked, his eyebrows pulled together.

"Of course it does, my dear boy, but don't forget that we control that garage! It is blind to Muggles! They tend not to see much, do they?"

"Right," Harry nodded, "well, thank you for your help."

As Harry and Hermione turned to leave, the innkeeper suddenly called out, "Wait just a moment!"

The pair turned around as she said, "Listen closely, you two. I've been into Muggle Brisbane before. If you plan on taking Muggle transportation, it would be best if you took what is known as the 'Black and White Cab' instead of the 'Yellow Cab.' The latter is just a nasty piece of work. Do you hear?"

"Yes, thank you for that," Hermione said, smiling, as both she and Harry exited out of Impi's Inn.

"Have fun sweethearts," the innkeeper called out to their retreating backs.

As they stepped outside, Harry and Hermione looked both ways, before Harry took Hermione's hand and tugged her softly to his left, as they made their way down the early morning Castellum main lane.

After walking past two eateries, a women's boutique, and a small shop selling dress robes, Harry and Hermione finally saw the entrance to the parking garage which separated the wizarding and Muggle worlds in Brisbane. The entrance to the garage was quite unspectacular as all that it was was a square, framed in steel, with a rusted chain hanging off to its left. Beyond, the square opening glowed a dim green color.

The pair entered through the opening and found themselves in a wide open garage, vacant of cars. To Harry, it seemed as if this one-story garage had room for maybe twenty Muggle cars as it wasn't very large.

"This is certainly different from London," Hermione remarked, as Harry led her by the hand through the empty garage.

"Well, witches and wizards in other countries need to find different ways to blend in with Muggles, don't they," Harry said back to her, as they departed from the garage and entered what looked like a wide alleyway.

Harry and Hermione walked up a mild incline before they found themselves surrounded by tall buildings and green trees. They were standing on a large sidewalk as cars drove back and forth mere feet from them in the main motorway.

Hermione looked up at the building the alleyway had been situated next to.

"Rowes Arcade," she read aloud, making Harry also look up at the building. "Don't forget about Rowes Arcade, Harry," she said, "as the garage next to the building is our entrance back into Castellum."

"Okay," he said, nodding his head. "But now what do we do?"

"We call a taxi," Hermione said simply, "there are many here right now."

Harry looked at the busy roads and saw that she was right: at least a dozen taxis's drove by, some of them yellow cabs while the others were black and white cabs.

"The innkeeper said to get a Black and White Cab, right," Harry asked, looking over at Hermione.

She nodded her head in answer just as a Black and White Cab pulled up to the curb, seeing Hermione's outstretched hand.

Impressed, Harry opened the door of the backseat to let Hermione in as he slid in after her.

"Where you kids headed," the bald-headed driver asked in a rasping voice.

"Um, you see, that's the problem. My friend here," Hermione started, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder, "indulged in too much chocolate and now he has a tooth ache. Since we are new to Brisbane, we don't know where many dentists' offices are located and we were hoping you could help us out."

Their driver appeared to be deep in thought as he scratched his chin. "Well, I know of a place in the Ascot area. They have different practices over there on Racecourse Road."

Hermione beamed as she said, "Would you mind taking us there, please?"

The driver nodded his head before pushing his foot on the gas pedal and driving away.

As the taxi passed numerous buildings along the way, Harry leaned down towards Hermione and whispered, "A tooth ache?"

She shot him a mocking glare before she whispered back, "What? Tooth aches are common. My mum and dad talk about their patients with tooth aches all the time."

"I was just wondering where that came from," Harry remarked, returning to sit upright again. He then noticed that the driver had been staring at them in his rearview mirror. Feeling slightly uneasy, Harry turned his attention to look at the outside scenery they were passing.

About twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the curb as he said, "Well, here we are, Racecourse Road! This street here as all different types of shops and restaurants and of course, dental practices; I'm sure your friend will feel better in no time."

"Thank you," Hermione said while she reached in her beaded bag and pulled out the necessary amount of money to pay their driver. As soon as he collected this from her, the two exited the cab and he departed.

Harry and Hermione stood on the sidewalk of Racecourse Road, right outside of a place called 'Caffe and Gelato Milany.' Harry then turned to Hermione and said, "And now we go looking for your parents?"

Hermione nodded as she said quietly so that passerby would not overhear, "When I modified their memories, I changed their names to Wendell and Monica Wilkins. I think what we should do is go into the medical practices we can find and say we have an appointment with Dr. Wendell Wilkins. That should tell us if my parents are in that specific practice or not."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Harry said, as together, they strolled along the sidewalk, looking at the different shops around them, trying to spot a dental office.

As cars whizzed past them on the street nearby, Hermione suddenly pointed and said, "There!"

Harry looked at a small shop several paces ahead of them. The pair hurried over and saw a sign plastered against the shop's exterior that read 'Holiday's Dental Care.'

"Should we try it," Harry said.

"I don't see why not, though I don't think this is the place. Come on," she said, tugging Harry by the arm as they entered through a set of glass doors.

Harry and Hermione marched up to the receptionist's desk, which was situated next to a rather large fish tank. The red-haired woman looked up, smiled, and said, "Do you have an appointment with Dr. Holiday today?"

Before Harry could think of an answer, Hermione suddenly said, "Oh, Dr. Holiday? I'm sorry, I had an appointment with Dr. Wilkins."

"I'm afraid that I don't know who Dr. Wilkins is. This is Dr. Holiday's practice. Thank you," the receptionist replied in a clipped tone.

As Harry and Hermione walked out of the office mere moments later, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "Well, she turned rather rude quite quickly, didn't she?"

Harry smirked as he said, "They're all competitors, aren't they? I'm sure it's somewhat natural. Anyway, let's keep looking, then."

After walking for a few minutes, Harry asked, "Would you like to try 'Smile Care'? It's located right across the street there."

Hermione looked over replied, "Well, it couldn't hurt to try."

After Harry and Hermione walked across the street, the pair strolled into the Smile Care and up to the receptionist's desk.

The woman at the desk looked up and asked, "And how may I help the two of you today?"

"I had an appointment with Dr. Wilkins at noon," Hermione said, smiling.

"Who?"

At this, Hermione's smile faltered considerably as she repeated, "Um, Dr. Wilkins."

"I don't know who Dr. Wilkins is. This is Dr. Shrodes' practice."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," Hermione replied, looking crestfallen.

"Not to worry, there are quite a few dental practices around here. Many people get confused at times," she said.

After a quick 'thank you' from Hermione, the pair left.

"At least she was friendlier than the last receptionist," Hermione stated dryly.

"Well that's two down," Harry started, "I wonder how many-,"

However, Harry was cut off as Hermione suddenly pushed him violently between a narrow space between two buildings.

"What is it," Harry asked, looking around in alarm.

Hermione's voice shook as she said, "Harry, over there...that's my mum."

* * *

Author's small note: This is part 2 to Harry and Hermione's adventures in Australia. As stated before, part 3 will be posted later tonight (US Eastern time). Thanks for reading.


	5. A Hydra of Horror

Warning: This chapter depicts disturbing content.

Chapter 5: A Hydra of Horror

"What…where," Harry asked, feeling his heart leap into his throat.

"Over there," Hermione whispered, pointing her finger across the street to a petite woman walking out of a restaurant called 'Baguette', carrying a large brown bag in her arm.

Harry saw that she was wearing a light blue blouse with a white skirt, as her frizzy brown hair was tied up in a ponytail.

"Come on, we have to follow her," Hermione said, grabbing Harry's hand and walking back across the road in haste.

After dodging several cars, Harry and Hermione zoomed back across the motorway and proceeded to walk several yards behind Hermione's mum.

"How do we get her attention," Harry whispered down to Hermione, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the woman in front of them.

"Leave it to me," she said, taking a quick glance around them, and leading Harry in between a narrow passage of two other buildings.

Hermione slowly took out her wand. With a final fleeting look around to see that no one was watching them, she pointed it at her mum and with a small wave, the bottom of the brown bag she was carrying burst open, with all of its contents spilling out onto the sidewalk below.

"Bugger," her mum exclaimed.

"Let's go," Hermione said in a hurried manner as both she and Harry went over to her.

"Hello, can we help you," Hermione asked sincerely as her mum was crouched down on the sidewalk, picking up a long loaf of French bread and two small pastries.

Her mum looked up and smiled at the two teenagers.

"Oh, never you mind, I think I can manage," she said sweetly. However, in the next instant, she looked over at Hermione and asked, "Are you alright dear?"

Harry looked over at her and saw that Hermione's eyes were watering.

"Yes, um, yes, I'm just fine," Hermione answered, hastily rubbing away at her eyes. "Something flew into my eyes is all."

"You two don't sound like you are from around here," her mum stated, "are you?"

"No, my friend, Hermione, and I, are from London, England," Harry said.

"London, now I hear that's such a fascinating city! So much history and vibrancy! My husband and I actually fancy the British accent, mind you."

As Harry and Hermione smiled at her comment, Hermione's mum turned to Harry and said, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh, my name is Harry, Harry Potter."

"Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Harry, and…Hermione, I think it was," she said, shaking both of their hands in greeting.

"Yes," Hermione responded.

"That's such an unusual name. I don't think I've ever met anyone named 'Hermione' before."

At her comment, Hermione's eyes darted down to the ground in grief.

Noticing this, Harry decided to take the lead as he asked, "And what is your name?"

"Goodness, how silly of me not to introduce myself! My name is Monica Wilkins. I actually own a dental practice with my husband, Wendell Wilkins."

"A dental practice," Harry asked, feigning cheerful curiosity.

"Yes, it is called 'Sweet Teeth'. We opened it some time ago," Monica said.

"Have you lived in Australia your entire life," Harry questioned, trying to make small talk.

"As long as I can remember," she replied with a wide smile. "I just love it here. The weather is so nice all year round! My husband had a small thought of moving over to America, but I just can't leave Australia…I'm too comfortable here. But, how is London? Everyone that we've talked to here said it is quite cold and dreary."

Hermione smirked as she said, "I think many people think that, but London does have its nice days, too. However, its winter's are pretty cold."

"Do you mind the cold," Monica asked.

Harry and Hermione gave each a quick look before they both shook their heads from side to side in answer.

Monica smiled as she said, "Yes, that's your young blood. You see, as you get older, your blood starts to thin as generally, we older people tend to flock away from the cold weather to warmer climates."

"I actually like the cold weather and the snow," Hermione replied, "its fun to make hot chocolate and sit by the fire, watching the snow fall outside."

"Well, that sounds like a very romantic setting," Monica said, as Hermione's cheeks flared pink. "So, are the two of you vacationing in Brisbane?"

"Yes, we actually just arrived here but we don't exactly know where anything is," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders. "We've been walking around for a while but we're still trying to find things to do."

Harry thought Hermione's words were quite convincing as apparently, Monica Wilkins did as well.

"Oh, not to worry, my dear, why don't I introduce you to my husband? Sweet Teeth isn't far from here, just a couple of blocks away. Maybe the two of you could join us for lunch as well? My husband and I decided to work only until one o'clock today. Our home is only about three miles away."

"That sounds wonderful," Hermione said, before Monica waved for them to walk with her down the sidewalk.

"Wait a minute, I need to go back inside Baguette and get another French loaf," she said, "I'll be just a quick moment!"

As Monica disappeared back inside, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "I think that went quite well; better than I expected."

However, something was bothering Harry. He voiced his opinions to Hermione, "Do you think that went, I dunno, too well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we just met your mum and she's already inviting us over to have lunch?"

"My parents are pretty outgoing," Hermione said, "and I think they're just being polite. It's only lunch that we were invited to."

"And do you plan to tell them at this lunch about…everything? How you're a witch and how they are your parents?"

Hermione gave his words a fair bit of thought before she responded, "Yes. I think the longer I wait, the harder it will be to eventually tell them the truth."

"That should definitely make for an interesting conversation, shouldn't it," Harry asked sarcastically.

As Hermione playfully shoved his arm, Monica walked back towards them with a big smile plastered across her face and another brown bag snuggled against her side. "Oh, the owner is such a fine gentleman! He saw that I had dropped my bag and he gave me another French loaf free of charge! Anyway, let's go!"

The trio walked down the wide walkways as Monica pointed out different shops and restaurants her and her husband like to shop in and eat at.

"Did you know that there are over one-hundred and thirty different businesses here on Racecourse Road? There's everything from cafes, florists, boutiques, banks, post offices, real estate agents, and even a library…there's just so much to do here!"

"It sounds like a wonderful place," Hermione acquiesced.

As a chilly wind blew over the area, Hermione and Monica's hair blew behind them, while Harry's jet-black hair became more ruffled than ever.

Monica took in the fresh wind with a content smile on her face. She turned to face Harry when she suddenly stopped walking.

"Goodness, Harry, where on earth did you get that scar from?"

Harry had been suddenly taken off guard at her question as he said, "What?"

"That scar on your forehead," she replied, squinting at it.

"Oh, um, I got it during an accident when I was a baby," he responded awkwardly.

"I don't think I've ever seen a scar in the shape of, what is that, a lightning bolt, before," Monica said.

"Yeah, it's pretty unique," he said back, feeling the tips of his ears grow a bright red.

"I take it that many people take a look and stare at it," Monica said.

"A bit," murmured Harry, "but I guess you can say I'm somewhat used to it."

Monica gave him a warm smile before patting his left should gently several times. "Don't worry about things of that nature, Harry. We're all human, are we not? We all make the same mistake over and over again, but in time, we all do learn from them."

Harry nodded his head at her in understanding.

"So what did your parents think of the two of you coming all the way down here for a holiday," Monica asked the two teenagers.

Harry and Hermione shared another look with each other as Hermione started, "Oh, um, I guess you can say that my parents came here before, and suggested that I take a trip here since they enjoyed it so much."

"Oh, that's wonderful dear, when did your parents visit Australia?"

"Quite recently," Hermione replied.

"And what about your parents Harry?"

"Er, well, my parents didn't really say anything about it," Harry said, not looking at Monica.

"What do you mean by that?"

Before Harry could answer, Hermione cut in and asked, "Oh, is this your practice then?"

The group of three looked up and saw a one-story brick facade on their left, with a pair of glass doors, teamed with several windows.

"Yes, this is us! Let's go in," Monica said excitedly.

As they walked up closer to the building, Harry saw the phrase 'Sweet Teeth: Cavities Exposed!' plastered in white letters across its front doors.

Upon entering the building, Harry noticed around a dozen comfortable looking chairs were arranged, nestled against one wall, as two tables were situated in front of the chairs, topped with a range of different magazines, which sat atop of a maroon carpet. Wallpaper, decorated with a family of animated teeth, ran the length of the room while the receptionist window had a 'Closed' sign placed upon its windows.

"You two wait here for a moment while I go and fetch my husband," Monica said. "Please, make yourselves comfortable!"

Harry and Hermione sat down in the waiting room chairs as he turned towards her and said, "You mum is really friendly."

Hermione smiled, though Harry noticed that her smile did not reach her eyes. "Yeah, she definitely is. I just wonder how they'll react when I replace their memories and tell them everything that has happened."

"Hermione, I told you before, you don't have anything to worry about. They are your parents. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"Harry, do you think even after I replace my parents' memories, that they would want to stay here in Australia?"

Harry thought over this as he replied, "Well, it's a possibility. Why?"

"I don't know, it's just that I spent such a long time away from them that I want them as close to me as possible. But if they feel happy here in Australia, should I deny them their happiness by wanting them to return to London?"

"I think that your parents will be happy as long as they are close to you, Hermione," Harry responded. "I mean, you never did think about moving down here, did you?"

"It actually did cross my mind, but London is my home. I don't think I could ever leave it. I'm afraid that if I ever did leave London, when I came back, I wouldn't recognize anything about it anymore. Our world is changing drastically, Harry, ever since the war. And, I want to be part of that change. Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded as he stated, "Yes, it does. I told you what McGonagall said before to Mrs. Weasley about how people thought I would take off after the war and not come back. But I can't do that…I feel like if I did that, I would be turning my back on my own home. It just wouldn't feel right."

"Do you really think that the Ministry is going to change for the better, Harry," Hermione asked, as Harry noticed through a window a gaggle of young girls pass by the dental practice in a laughing heap.

"I sure hope so," he replied.

Hermione shook her head as she said softly, "That's not what I asked Harry. Do you really think it is going to happen?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "There's always a possibility that it could happen, but sometimes, other things get in the way. McGonagall said that Kingsley was a popular choice for the position as the next Minister, and judging by everything that he did for the Order of the Phoenix and fighting against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, I think Kingsley can make the changes needed in order to repair what has been lost."

"I'm definitely hopeful that things do get better," Hermione said.

"Yeah, it would be nice to live a normal life from now on," Harry added thoughtfully.

"I didn't even know you knew what normal meant with everything that has happened to you," Hermione laughed, which made Harry smirk.

"You're probably right."

Just then, Monica came back out to the waiting room area, followed by, who Harry presumed, was her husband, and Hermione's father.

"Harry, Hermione, I would like you to meet my husband, Wendell Wilkins. Honey, this young gentleman here is Harry Potter, and this over here, is his friend, Hermione Granger," Monica said, making the necessary introductions.

Harry smiled politely over at Wendell and they shook hands. Harry noticed that Wendell was about a head taller than his wife. His chestnut brown hair was combed off to one side, with small patches of gray clearly visible. He looked quite thin, as he wore a dark green sweater over a white-buttoned down shirt and a silver tie.

"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Harry and Hermione," Wendell said in a deep voice, smiling over at the pair of them. "My wife tells me the two of you are from London, is that correct?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione said, smiling up at her father brightly. Harry saw though, that Hermione had held back in terms of having her eyes water, unlike that of when she had first met her mother.

"And how do you like Australia so far," he asked, looking at them in turn.

Harry answered, "Well, we haven't been able to spend much time here, yet, but it definitely seems like a great country."

"Oh, indeed it is," he replied with a large smile.

As Harry and Hermione smiled over at him, Wendell asked, "Are the two of your hungry? I understand that my wife invited you over to our place for a small bite for lunch. Would you care to get going?"

"Of course," Hermione said at once, as Wendell held open the door for his wife, Harry, and Hermione to walk out of. He followed before he turned around, and locked the door behind him.

"I hope you two don't mind but my wife and I usually walk to work and back home, seeing that it is such a short distance, and it didn't make much sense to drive," he said.

"That's not a problem at all," Hermione said, as Harry shook his head. With that, Wendell and Hermione walked together while Monica and Harry followed behind, walking next to each other.

As another brisk wind blew over the group, Monica leaned towards Harry and said, "You know, Harry, I'm sorry about what happened to your parents."

Harry turned towards her in surprise before he recovered himself and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Harry, I could tell by the way you responded before when I asked about you what your parents thought of you coming down here, by your body language and your facial expressions, that your parents are no longer with you."

Harry didn't say anything back as he was shocked beyond comprehension that she had figured out his parents were dead.

"Did it happen a long time ago," Monica asked him tenderly.

Harry could only nod before he cleared his throat and replied, "It happened when I was a baby, actually."

"I'm so sorry," she said.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he responded, "It's okay. It was a long time ago." He then looked ahead at Hermione and her father striking up a conversation with each other. This did not go unnoticed by Monica.

She smirked slightly as she then probed, "Do you like her, Harry…Hermione I mean," seeing a confused look upon his face.

"Hermione?"

"Yes."

Harry thought about her question for a long moment before he responded, "Hermione is one of my best friends. We've known each other since we were eleven years old. We've been through a lot together."

"So is that a 'yes'," Monica questioned.

"I don't know, really. I don't think I've ever given it that much thought. Back home in London, Hermione and I are sort of together with other people," Harry told her.

"Well what does that mean, 'sort of together'?"

"It just means that she's kind of involved with someone else, and I'm kind of involved with someone else," Harry said, his cheeks glowing a bright red.

At this, Monica threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, my, the dating scene amongst you young people sure has changed ever since Wendell and I became an item."

"Really…how so," Harry asked in sincere curiosity.

"Well, for starters, we didn't have this 'sort of together' or 'kind of involved with' type of scenario. Either, you were together with someone or you weren't…it was very straightforward. Also, from what I understand, a great deal of young people are inclined to 'hook-up', which may a bit beyond where you, Hermione, and your friends are right now, but back in time, couples shared true romance with one another. There was none of this falsified love that so many young people face nowadays, which is utter rubbish if I might add. Sometimes I feel as if romance and love changes in meaning with each passing generation."

Harry laughed lightly which made Monica look over at him and ask, "What?"

"I was just thinking of my parents. From what I've been told by their friends, my mum couldn't stand my dad much of the time they were at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? What's that?"

"What? Oh, um, just a school they went to. Anyway, it took my dad a long time to finally get mum to go out with him on a date. After that, they just fell in love."

"That's how the best relationships start, Harry, with two people slowly falling for each other," Monica nodded.

"You think so," he asked, looking over at her.

"Of course. That way, the two people in question know more about each other. People who rush into marriage and in starting a family run into problems as they soon find out particular personalities their significant other may harbor, which can lead to arguments and sometimes, separation and divorce. I'm not saying that those people who are slow to fall in love tend to fare better in their relationships than those that do not, but it's pretty evident that things of that nature work out for the better."

Harry thought over what Monica had said to him before he decided to ask her something.

"Actually, I was wondering if you give me some advice about a relationship that I'm sort of in and sort of not," Harry said.

"Go on," she said, nodding her head.

"You see, back home, there's this girl that I had dated previously, and she wants to get back together, but I don't exactly know if I want to."

"Ah, I see. Yes, that is quite a troubling problem. Well, Harry, the question you need to ask yourself is if you get back into that relationship, will be you be happy? Your happiness will determine the course of your relationship, never forget that."

"I don't know if I'd be happy. I mean, I did have feelings for her, and I wouldn't say those feelings are gone, but they just aren't as strong as they once were."

"Maybe what you felt for this girl was just a fleeting feeling, or a passing moment; someone who could make you happy in the short-run but not forever," Monica said.

Before Harry could reply, Wendell suddenly said, "Now here we are!"

Harry looked across the street where Wendell was pointing to and surmised that this was their home. Harry saw a two-story house, with a white siding that covered its front. A white fence surrounded the property, with a tall overhang that served as an entrance. A medium-sized tree stood on the lot in the far corner of the home, while a telephone wire hung above it.

"Let's go then," Wendell said, before the party of four crossed the nearly-empty street.

Wendell led them under the large overhang as he started up a flight of steps, ascending towards the home's front door.

"Okay, come in, come in," he said, waving Harry, Hermione, and his wife inside the home, as he softly shut the door behind them.

"Well, Harry, Hermione, welcome to our home!"

"It's beautiful," Hermione said, gazing around at the open-concept layout, in which she could see a large living that was situated next to a clean and updated kitchen. A long sliding-glass door window gave the home a panoramic view of the Ascot area, and of the home's backyard below. Laminate wood flooring covered the home, as quaint decorations dotted the home's interior.

"Thank you," Wendell said happily.

"How about I get a quick pasta going, and Wendell, dear, could you please go out and set the table up outside. It would be such a shame to waste such a beautiful afternoon inside to eat," Monica said.

"Sure," Wendell said delightedly, leaning over towards Harry and Hermione and commenting, "I can never say 'no' to pasta!"

As Wendell collected the tableware from a drawer in the kitchen, he said, "Follow me, you two, so I can show you the backyard."

Harry and Hermione followed him out the backdoor as they descended a flight of stairs, and onto the back stone patio, where a rather large, rectangular table sat.  
Wendell set the cutlery onto the table and said, "This is our backyard. As you can see, we have a pool over there which we get a lot of use out of during the summer months, and over there is just a mangy old tool shed." The shed stood in front of a large oak tree, as their backyard was surrounded by a tall wooden fence.

"It's actually very nice," Hermione said to Wendell as he beamed.

"You two enjoy the weather out here…it's gorgeous today! I'll be right back." With that, he trudged up the stairs and disappeared into the home.

As soon as Hermione heard the door shut, she turned to Harry and said quickly, "Harry, I'm nervous."

"About telling them?"

"Well, I think I'm going to replace their memories and then tell them," she said anxiously.

"Hermione, just calm down. I know you can do this and I'll be with you every step of the way."

She nodded at his words before turning away and gazing up at the clear, blue sky as Harry could tell she was trying not to show him her nerves.

Suddenly, she took a deep breath and said, "This actually looks a bit like the backyard we have back at home in London."

"You have a pool back home," Harry asked, as the pair made their way onto the green grass, as another brisk wind washed over them.

"Oh, that's right, I don't think you have ever been over my house," Hermione remarked, looking over at him, "but yes, we have a pool that's probably a bit smaller than this one."

Harry nodded in understanding as Hermione continued, "Also, our backyard is smaller than this one too, but we don't have an old toolshed in ours either."

Harry and Hermione walked around the pool once before making their way near the shed that was situated in front of the large oak tree. The squared shack was obscured in shadow by the tree itself as many of its green leaves had parted from its branches and glazed the shed's roof.

However, as Harry and Hermione walked closer and closer to the shed, an awful stench bled through their nostrils. The smell was so putrid that Harry thought he would vomit in the next instant. He noticed that Hermione had clamped her nose shut, while her face was screwed up in disgust.

"Harry, what is that smell," Hermione said.

Without answer, Harry walked closer and closer to the shed, pinching his own nose to keep from breathing in the stink, as Hermione followed behind.

Before opening the shed's door, Harry saw something move down below out of the corner of his eye. Glancing down at his feet, he saw that he had stepped in what looked like a white pile.

Confused, Harry pushed open the shed door where his mouth dropped open in horror at the scene before him. He willed himself to close the door of the shack but his body would not listen. His arms and legs were frozen in place as his heart hammered wildly against his chest. How was this possible? This couldn't be happening. He had to be dreaming.

Before him, shoved pugnaciously against the back wall of the shed, were the bodies of a man and a woman, yet Harry recognized them as none other than Wendell and Monica Wilkins, otherwise known as Daniel and Emily Granger. But how could this be? Wendell and Monica Wilkins were back inside their house.

However, what was the most unsettling of all was that hundreds of thousands of maggots were feasting upon the flesh of the two bodies, yet they were unable to do anything about it. Their figures looked like a pile of sticks, as their faces were sunken in, resembling that of a skeleton. Their hairs had been savagely ripped from their heads in patches, while their tongues lolled away, hanging out of their mouths in severe dehydration. The floor of the shack contained what looked like human waste.  
Harry heard a gasp of horror behind him. Turning around, he saw Hermione's face frozen in a mask of terror and revulsion.

"Help us, please," Emily whispered with what looked like all of her remaining strength, "please," she cried.

"Mum…dad," Hermione said quietly, as she started shaking. He turned back to see the maggots dig their way into the eye sockets of Daniel and Emily Granger, while others made their way into their open mouths.

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Rushing away from the shed and past Hermione, Harry stumbled over the green grass and vomited. The grisly scene that he had just witnessed was too much for him to bear. He retched over and over, trying to free himself of the horrendous images of the Daniel and Emily Granger, who were near their own deaths, yet they were being tortured for however long beforehand.

As his puke finally subsided, fear surged through Harry as he thought of only one other person at that exact moment: Hermione.

Whipping around, he saw Hermione stood transfixed on the spot, as she looked down at her parents who were literally being eaten alive before her very eyes.

However, before Harry could do or say anything, the shed suddenly exploded, sending Hermione flying backwards.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shouted with all of his might, as her body flipped over him and landed viciously onto the stone patio.

Harry stood to his feet, while the shed continued the burn in flames behind him, as he started to rush over to an unmoving Hermione.

However, a jet of green light was sent his way. He ducked low to the ground, avoiding the Killing Curse, as he whipped out his own wand and sent a jet of orange light over at his attackers: Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

They both jumped away from the curse as they sent jets of light over at Harry.

" _PROTEGO_ ," he shouted, effectively blocking their flurry of spells.

He then noticed Hermione was starting to move around, feet away from him, however, in the next instant, a spell hit him in the chest as he was flung backwards against the wooden fence, hearing a sickening _cracking_ sound just above his stomach.

He groaned in pain as he staggered to stand to his feet, seeing both Wendell and Monica tear down the stairs, making their way to the backyard.

However, before they could do so, Hermione had stood to her feet. She took out her wand, pointed it at the staircase and yelled, " _BOMBARDA!_ " The staircase then exploded, sending bits and pieces of sharp wood flying into the air. Hermione fell back toward the ground, screaming in pain, while Monica also screamed, as her body crashed through the patio table.

Wendell jumped the last few feet, but landed on his leg, which twisted out from under him at an odd angle. He sank onto the grass screaming in agony while his ankle was twisted directly to its left, as his bone was sticking out of his body after puncturing his skin.

Harry tried to make his way over to Hermione while nursing his side. He saw her feet away from him as she was clutching her right arm, her face screwed up in pain. It was then that he noted a long wooden splinter was sticking out of her shoulder, as a thick coat of blood had fallen from her wound and onto the grass underneath.

"Hermione," Harry said urgently, forgetting his throbbing side. "Hermione, you're okay, you're okay," Harry said quickly, looking into her warm, brown eyes, as her face grew a deathly pale.

"I-It's b-bad, isn't i-i-it," she gasped, her breathing short.

Harry shook his head and said, "No, no it's not bad at all."

"M-my parents are d-d-d-dead, a-aren't they, H-Harry?"

Before he could answer, he heard a movement from behind him. Turning around, he saw the body of Wendell was jumping towards him, a look of pure hatred and savagery on his face.

His blood boiling at the sight of Hermione's injuries and the death of her parents, Harry's green eyes blazed as he yelled harshly, " _REDUCTO!_ "

Harry's spell blasted away one half of Wendell's head. The force of the spell flung Wendell's body backwards as he landed on his neck with a sickening _CRACK_ while his brains splashed into the pool behind him.

Monica screamed at the sight, making Harry's blood curl. Pointing his wand at her, he yelled, " _STUPEFY!_ " A jet of red light hit her square in the chest before she crumpled back onto the broken remains of the patio table.

"H-H-Harry, t-take u-us out of h-h-here," Hermione panted, as a lone tear streaked down her face. "M-my body is b-broken."

"Where's your beaded bag," he asked quickly. "Never mind," he said, before pointing his wand at her and saying " _ACCIO PORTKEY!_ "

The pocket watch Kingsley had given Harry and Hermione flew into his open hand. He tapped it with his wand three times before the portkey started to throttle and glow a bright blue.

Pointing his wand again at the body of Monica Wilkins, Harry yelled " _ACCIO!_ " Her body flew towards him just as the portkey departed from Brisbane, Australia.

In the next moment, Harry landed roughly onto the wooden floor of the atrium of the Ministry of Magic in London, England, as Hermione fainted in his arms, a flurry of spells were shot at Harry, and chaos ensued.

* * *

I apologize for anyone that might have been disgusted by what happened to Hermione's parents. Chapter 6 will be posted Tuesday. If you wish, please leave a short review to let me know how I'm doing in terms of my writing, characterization, and overall story. I'm interested to know what you guys think! Thanks for reading.


	6. The Pawn in the Wind

Chapter 6: The Pawn in the Wind

Harry blinked open his eyes cautiously. He took in a deep breath, pulling in long breaths of fresh air to fill his lungs. He looked around him, turning his head from left to right, as he didn't know where he was. He then directed his focus in front of him and for a long moment, he was stunned, as no coherent words or thoughts would form because standing before him, bathed in a bright golden light, stood his mother.

"Sweetie," she said softly, holding out her hand to him, smiling wide, as dimples sported her cheeks, while her red hair fell in waves down her back.

"Mum," Harry finally managed to choke out, reaching to touch her hand as his mind denied all reasoning that his mother was standing directly in front of him. "Wha-where am I? Am I dead?"

"No, darling, you are not dead," she responded, as Harry noticed her voice sounded other-worldly.

"But where am I," Harry asked, "and how are you here?"

Lily smiled at him again before she responded, "Harry, you and I are in a place that is very rare, but also very real. This is where the living and the dead are able to meet each other."

Harry looked around but could only see a soft, white glow emitting around his mum and himself.

"But why am I here," Harry asked, still dazed beyond comprehension, "and where is dad?"

"Your father is somewhere beyond, where I will be joining him shortly. Not everyone is able to meet here, Harry, but he knows that this conversation is taking place. I need to tell you a few things, Harry, as my time here is short."

Harry nodded his head, though he was not entirely sure if he understood what exactly was going on, as his mother continued, "Firstly, Harry, I want you to know how proud your father and I are of you. We've watched over you, ever since you were placed onto my sister's doorstep. We have felt every emotion you have: we were elated when you were happy, we cried when you did, we cheered you on every Quidditch match you participated in, and most importantly, we loved whenever you felt love in return."

Harry's eyes started to water as he sniffed in response.

"But Harry, I come here to serve as a warning. Even though you defeated Voldemort, be aware that evil still exists, as this was clearly evident with what happened to Hermione and her parents."

"So then, they truly are…dead," Harry managed to whisper out loud.

Lily's eyes looked downcast before she responded somberly, "Yes, I'm afraid that her parents are dead. The man and woman you saw back in Brisbane, trapped in the shed, was her real parents, Harry, and they were tortured for months before their untimely murders."

Harry shook his head back and forth as he quietly assessed, "Just when I thought everything would turn normal, something like this happens. When does all of this end, mum, and will it ever?"

At his words, Lily placed a hand tenderly on his shoulder as she replied, "What happened to Hermione was unjust, but, I don't think you need any reminder, Harry, that life is unfair. Considering what has happened, she needs your help, now more than ever before."

Harry scoffed inwardly, thinking how ironic it was of all the times Hermione had helped him in a number of predicaments he had been caught in, that after the war had ended, he would need to help her in return.

"But Harry, there is something else that I need to tell you as well."

Harry looked up at his mother expectantly, and noticed how green her eyes were, just like his own.

"Very soon, you will have to make a decision that could radically change your life as you now know it to be."

Harry's brows pulled together in confusion, as he asked, "What kind of decision?"

"That I cannot say, but you will know when the time is right," Lily replied in a serious tone.

"But, what will happen if I make the wrong choice," Harry questioned.

"Remember, darling, that there is no wrong choice. All that matters is what you do with what you are given."

As Harry thought over his mum's words, he noticed that she started fading away, her form becoming transparent. His eyes grew wide in alarm, as he said, "Mum, what's happening?"

She smiled over at him as she responded, "It's time for us to depart now. The living and the dead only have so much time with each other, as we belong in our own separate worlds, Harry."

"But I don't want you to go," Harry shouted, as his voice echoed around the soft, white glow, surrounding them.

"I have to go, and so do you. You have friends that are waiting for you to wake up."

"Wake up? Do you mean that this was just a dream," Harry posed, feeling crestfallen.

"It is what you make of it, but remember what I said, Harry, that evil still very much exists in wizarding Britain," Lily said softly. "Never forget who your friends truly are."

Before she could say anything else, she was gone. Harry, whose breathing was deeply uneven, suddenly felt his body rising very rapidly upwards.

In the next instant, he was blinded by a piercing light, directly above his head. Gasping aloud, he quickly sat up and looked around, taking in his surroundings.

"It's about time you woke up, mate," said a familiar voice to his right.

His eyes barely made out a mass of bright, red hair, and a smile on the face, of who he supposed was Ron.

Reaching over to his bedside table, Harry hastily shoved on his round glasses, and saw Ron had taken a seat next to a bed Harry found himself in.

"Ron, where am I?"

"Where do you think, mate? You're in St. Mungo's," Ron replied.

"But why am I here," Harry asked.

"You don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

Ron looked slightly uncomfortable before he explained, "Well, I don't know exactly what happened, but what Kingsley told us was that you apparated into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic with Hermione and some other woman. Obviously, people that were in the atrium panicked as you were hit with a dozen stunners."

Harry, however, had only one thought on his mind at that moment, though.

"Hermione…where's Hermione," he asked rapidly.

At this question, Ron looked away from him, deciding to instead take notice at the bare, white walls of Harry's room.

"Ron," Harry started casually, though he felt panic threatening to claim victory, "where is Hermione?"

"She's here, Harry, in St. Mungo's," he replied after another moment.

"How is she," Harry asked, preparing for the worst.

"Harry, the last I hard was that she's not doing too good." Harry saw how distant Ron's eyes had become, as he seemed to ponder how much to tell Harry.

"What does that mean," Harry asked, agitated that Ron was being so closed-off.

Before he could answer, the door to his room burst open as Mrs. Weasley and Ginny flew into the room, both of their eyes red with worry.

"Oh, Harry, dear, how are you feeling," Mrs. Weasley asked in a motherly tone, as she and Ginny crowded next to him.

"I feel fine," Harry swallowed, "but I want to know how Hermione's doing."

At his words, Ginny softly took his hand in his, and gave it a squeeze of affection, though Harry didn't squeeze back.

"Let me go grab the healer," Mrs. Weasley said, pointedly ignoring his question, as she dashed out of the hospital room.

After she left, Harry hopelessly turned his head to look up at Ginny as he started, "Ginny, please-," but she cut him off.

"Harry, we were all so worried when no one could find you! Professor McGonagall then said that you and Hermione went to Australia! What did you go there for?"

Annoyed that no one would tell him about Hermione, he decided the best course of action to take was to answer whatever questions Ron, Ginny, or Mrs. Weasley directed at him.

"We went there to bring back Hermione's parents," Harry answered, glaring over at Ron, who again seemed to take a special interest at the barren walls of Harry's room.

"But why did you go with her? I think Hermione has proven that she's a pretty capable witch of bring her parents back on her own," Ginny remarked, in which Harry noted a hint of jealousy hidden in her words.

"I went with her because I wanted to," Harry said as evenly as he could, as he could feel he was moments away from lashing out at her.

Ginny shook her head back and forth at his answer, as she said, "You were always so noble, Harry, ever since I first met you. Please, never change."

Suddenly, a healer, followed by Mrs. Weasley reentered the room, as Ginny scooted away from his bed to stand next to Ron and their mother.

"Glad to see you are awake, Mr. Potter," the healer said rather hurriedly, "we've been expecting you."

"How's Hermione doing," Harry asked the healer.

"Not right now, first, I need to check your vitals," she placated, "lie still if you will."

Harry resisted the urge to move around, as the healer moved her wand soundlessly over his immobile body.

When she reached his head, a wide smile broke over his face as she said, "Excellent! Mr. Potter, you are showing no signs of trauma and your body has not sustained any internal or external injuries! You had quite a nasty crack in your rib cage, and you took twelve stunners to the back, but I'm happy to say that you have healed!"

"Can you please tell me-," Harry started but was cut off again.

"Here, have a drink of water," his healer said, waving her wand in which a plastic cup instantly appeared right next to Harry. "Drink this while I fill out your remaining paperwork. After that, you will be free to leave at your leisure!"

As the healer departed, Harry called after her, "Wait!"

However, she seemed to not to have heard him for she filed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Thoroughly annoyed, Harry wondered why no one would inform him how Hermione is doing. The last thing he remembered, was that he apparated away from Brisbane using the pocket watch Kingsley had give him with a woman who claimed to be Hermione's mum, and Hermione herself. He witnessed Hermione faint in his arms, and his mind went blank, which was supposedly when, according to Ron and his healer, twelve stunners had struck him.

"Harry, drink up, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, walking over to his bed and picking up the plastic cup to issue it into his hands.

He did as he was told, but when he downed its contents, he said, "Mrs. Weasley, could you please tell me how Hermione is doing?"

At this question, Mrs. Weasley smiled a little too broadly, as she said, "She'll be just fine, Harry, you have no need to worry about her."

"But Ron said that she wasn't doing too good," Harry replied in confusion.

"Ron has been here, for a good number of hours. I have been back and forth, visiting you and Hermione, and the last time I was there, Healer Jones said her vitals had drastically improved," Mrs. Weasley informed.

Relief swept through Harry like a tidal wave of epic proportions. He sunk back into the pillows of his bed as his shoulders sagged in reprieve. Finding out that Hermione was alright made Harry feel ecstatic, though he knew it would be a long road of recovery for Hermione after finding out that both of her parents were dead; Harry, however, was determined at that point that he would be there for her every step of the way. There were so many times in which Hermione consoled Harry during his times of despair, but now, she needed him, and he would be there for her.

As he sighed in contentment, Mrs. Weasley said, "Harry, I know that you wanted to help out with the repairs of Hogwarts, but I think it would be best if you had a day's rest, at the very least. I would be happy to have you over at the Burrow for a spot of lunch."

"Lunch? Hang on, what time is it," Harry asked, confused. He remembered that he and Hermione departed Australia a little after one o'clock.

"It's around noon right now. You've been asleep for several hours. Remember, the time difference dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Now, your clothes are over there in the wardrobe, so we'll all just wait outside while you get dressed."

Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley all departed the room, shutting the door softly behind them, as Harry got up from his bed, stretched out his aching muscles, and walked over to the brown wardrobe situated in his room. He opened its doors and changed out of his white patient uniform of St. Mungo's, and into a plain, gray t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Harry walked over and opened his room door to see Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny waiting for him.

"Shall we go then," Mrs. Weasley asked, with a bright smile on her face.

"I really want to see Hermione," Harry said, "I want to tell her that I'll be back later."

"Harry, the last time I saw her, she was fast asleep," Mrs. Weasley said, "but you look like you are underfed, Harry. Let's go see the healer and we'll be ready to leave."

Feeling dejected, Harry nonetheless thought it would be for the best if Hermione got her rest for the time being, as he followed the Weasleys down a hallway, and turned a corner where Mrs. Weasley asked the healer, "Is Harry's paperwork ready? We've decided to take him to my home for a spot of lunch."

"I just need Mr. Potter's signature here," the healer said, waving Harry forward towards her desk, handing him a pen, and pointing to a line where he was to sign.

After he did so, the healer smiled and said, "Okay, you are free to go Mr. Potter!"

With that, Mrs. Weasley turned to her two youngest children and Harry, telling them, "Since Ginny already has her license, we will all be apparating to the Burrow. On the count of three then…one…two…three!"

Four loud _POPS_ signified the departure of the party of four as they left St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Moments later, they appeared outside of the Burrow under a cloudy sky. Harry looked up and took in its towering structure as it seemed as if addition after addition had been added to the Weasley home as their family kept on expanding.

"Inside, everybody inside," Mrs. Weasley said, waving Ron, Ginny, and Harry forward. "I want you three to sit at the table and relax, and I'll fix you a healthy lunch!"

Harry took a seat, noticing that Ginny sat down next to him, while Ron sat across from the pair, shaking his head in mock amusement.

Mrs. Weasley waved her wand and in the following second, a large black cauldron started smoking as a bright fire had been lit underneath it, shooting into the air an aroma of smells that made Harry's stomach grumble. Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen and went out into the back garden.

After a several minutes of silence, Ron broke the ice and asked quietly, "Mate, what happened to you two down there?"

"We were attacked," Harry said simply, recalling the awful set of circumstances they found Hermione's real parents in.

"Attacked by who," Ginny pressed on.

Harry shook his head as he answered, "I have no idea. It was some man and woman claiming to be Hermione's parents."

"Didn't Hermione know," Ron asked, looking skeptical. "I mean, they are her parents after all. Wouldn't she have realized that something was different about them?"

"They were disguised as her parents, Ron," Harry said.

Ron digested this piece of information before realization dawned on his face as he asked, "Disguised as in like the Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry nodded his head in answer. "I think so. Hermione's real parents were kept in a shed in the backyard of the home."

A look of horror came across Ron's face. "Do you know what happened to them? Her parents, I mean?"

"They're…dead," Harry said dejectedly. "Hermione and I found them, and then, the two people who claimed to be her parents blew up the shed we found their bodies in."

Ginny gasped as in the next instant, she asked, "You're not still hurt, are you Harry?"

"Calm down, Ginny, the healer said he was just fine," Ron cut in.

Harry, however, was appalled that Ginny completely disregarded that Hermione had lost both of her parents.

"Ginny, did you hear nothing that I just said? Hermione lost her mum and dad. The last thing I am worried about is myself at the moment," Harry said in a cold voice.

"I know, but you just went through a war, Harry. You thought that everything was over only for you to go to Australia and be attacked again," Ginny countered.

"And what about, Hermione," Harry asked, his temper rising, "she was also in the same war and now she's lost her parents."

At this, Ginny squared her shoulders, folded her arms over her chest, and whispered harshly, "I guess it didn't cross your mind, Harry that we all lost someone too, or did you already forget about Fred?"

Instead of waiting for an answer, Ginny stood up from the table, and dashed up the rickety staircase of the Burrow, her head in her hands, sobbing.

Harry shook his head from side to side before haning head in shame, completely forgetting that Fred had died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he looked up at Ron and said, "Ron, I'm so sorry about forgetting about Fred. I can't imagine it's any easier for you."

Ron smiled kindly over at him while shrugging his shoulders. "It'll get better, I'm sure of it. Every day comes easier now, but it will be some time before any of us recovers. Mum actually seems to be doing really well, though she was really distraught over the past two days."

Harry nodded his head as Ron asked, "Harry, how come Hermione didn't ask me to come with you two?"

"I dunno. Hermione did want to wait a few days before going to Australia, but suddenly, she felt that she couldn't wait any longer. It was a pretty quick decision that she made to leave," Harry replied honestly.

"I should've been there," Ron said in a troubled tone, more to himself than to Harry, "I am her boyfriend after all."

This statement polarized Harry's sentiments over what he and Hermione had discussed a couple of times now, in that Hermione didn't feel romantically linked to Ron, just as Harry himself didn't feel romantically linked to Ginny. Clearly, the two youngest Weasley children believed that Hermione and Harry were their partners, while Harry also thought that Mrs. Weasley felt the same way.

Just then, Mrs. Weasley entered back into the kitchen and asked, "Where did Ginny get off to? Lunch is almost ready."

"I'll go get her," Harry said, standing to his feet while Mrs. Weasley gave him a wide smile.

"Be sure not to dawdle, Harry, lunch is best served hot!"

Ignoring her last comment, Harry left the kitchen and walked up the spindly Burrow staircase, his footsteps making the stairway groan under his weight.

Getting off on the third landing, he knocked on Ginny's closed bedroom door.

"Ginny, it's Harry," he called out, rapping against the door for a second time.

He heard the sound of the springs in a mattress squeak, as Ginny then opened the door. Harry could see that she had been crying.

Seeing this, Harry said, "Ginny, I'm sorry-,"

However, he never got to finish his apology as she jumped into his arms, surprising him, as she wrapped herself tightly around Harry.

"It's just so hard coming to terms with the fact that he's gone," Ginny sobbed into his shirt, soaking it with her tears. "Everything is just all mixed up now."

Harry inwardly sighed as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and hugged her in comfort over the loss of one of her brothers.

"Do you think everything will get better, Harry?" Ginny looked up at him with tears still streaking down her face.

"I hope so," Harry finally answered.

She nodded several times before pulling away, wiping away her tears.

"Have you given a thought over what I said to you before you left for Australia," Ginny asked, taking Harry's right hand in her own and looking up into his bright, green eyes.

A thought crossed Harry's mind to tell her that he didn't want to be romantically involved with her at that moment, but seeing that she was still emotional about Fred's death, he didn't have the heart in him to tell her so.

"Er, no," Harry answered truthfully.

"Harry, when will you give me an answer," Ginny asked, squeezing Harry's hand. "I want to get back together with you. Mum's nearly got our whole wedding figure out," she laughed sarcastically.

"Our wedding? Ginny, we didn't even date that long. And why would your mum think about a wedding of all things right now?"

"Harry, what we had between us was real and you can't deny that. I remember all the times you and I spent together, and how much you told me you liked me. Now I told you that I would wait, but I'm getting impatient. The summer will soon be over and I'll be heading back to Hogwarts, while you'll most likely take a job with the Ministry of Magic."

"I haven't thought about what I'm going to do yet," Harry replied.

"I know that, but you did express a lot of interest in becoming an auror. And after everything that you did, no one in their right mind would deny you the opportunity to catch dark wizards," Ginny relayed.

At her words, Harry wondered whether or not Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had told their family that their father had been offered the job as head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; judging by what Ginny had said, Harry guessed that that topic was not brought into light.

Before Harry could give her an answer, though, Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out, "Harry! Ginny! Lunch is ready!"

"We'll finish our discussion later," Ginny said, as she descended the staircase, still hand in hand with Harry.

As they entered the kitchen, they saw that Ron had already started feasting away, while Mrs. Weasley seemed to have a twinkle in her eyes seeing the interlaced hands of her youngest daughter and Harry.

"Now, take a seat both of you, and dig in," she said happily, "there's plenty of food to go around!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said without a smile, as he started to eat.

"It's not a problem, my dear, none at all," she said back.

As Mrs. Weasley continued to bustle around, Ron asked Harry with his mouth full of crushed bread, "Harry, do you still plan on helping out with the repairs at Hogwarts?"

"Ron, please swallow your food before talking; the sight is just ghastly," Ginny said in disgust.

Harry ignored Ginny's comment (though he thought it was well-founded) and swallowed his piece of meat before replying, "Yeah, I suppose so. But I'm still trying to decide what to do afterwards."

"Why don't you go apply for a position at the Ministry," Ron suggested, "I bet all my money that you would hired right away."

Harry shrugged his shoulders before he said, "I'm not sure if that's what I want to do now."

"Well what else would you do," Ron asked, clearly puzzled.

"I dunno. A part of me actually wanted to finish my education at Hogwarts," he said.

At this, Ron and Ginny's mouths dropped open in shock and surprise.

Ginny seemed to regain her composure first as she set down her fork and knife and said, "Oh, Harry, that's wonderful! Then we won't have to be separated!"

Before Harry could answer, Ron interjected, "Are you mad? Why would you go back to Hogwarts?"

"It just seems like the right thing to do," Harry shrugged.

"Mate, did you hear what I just said? I'm sure the entire Ministry of Magic would hire you in an instant!"

"It's just a thought," Harry said defensively, as he suddenly realized that he wasn't all that hungry. He pushed his plate away and stood up from the table.

"Harry, what are you doing," Ginny asked, as she too rose from the table.

"I've got to go and visit Hermione. I haven't seen her ever since I woke up," he replied.

"Harry, I think she needs her rest," Ginny said, shooting Ron a look that did not go unnoticed by Harry.

In the next instant, Ron rose too as he said, "I've got to see her, too. After all, she is my girlfriend." Harry though noticed that while Ron had said this, he looked down at his plate full of food mournfully.

"Great, then we'll all go together," Ginny exclaimed, starting to make her towards the door to exit the Burrow.

Harry had not counted on nor did we want Ron and Ginny with him at the moment, as he wanted to spend some time with Hermione, but he could not see a way out of his current predicament.

Silently, he made his way towards the door, with Ron following behind. Once outside, under a mass of gray clouds, Mrs. Weasley, who was peering around in the garden, looked up and asked, "Where are you going?"

"To visit Hermione," Ron replied in answer.

Mrs. Weasley then hustled over to them as she said, "Did you three finish your lunch already? Harry still looks underfed and I'm sure Hermione still needs her rest."

"I thought you said she was okay," Harry remarked.

"Oh, she is dear, but I overheard what you said about her parents and I'm sure she is going through a very traumatic experience," Mrs. Weasley replied.

"Then she should be around her friends. I mean, I bottled up all of my emotions fifth year when I shouldn't have," Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley inwardly huffed, as she concluded that nothing she would say would carry any weight.

Before apparating away, Harry said, "Thanks again for lunch, Mrs. Weasley."

"Harry, you know that you are more than welcome back at any time at the Burrow," she replied.

"Yeah, I know that," Harry said, before waving his hand in departure, and apparating away with a small _POP_. Seconds later, Ron and Ginny followed suit, leaving behind their mother who had a profound glare on her face.

Harry, Ron, and Ginny suddenly appeared back at St. Mungo's hospital.

Harry turned to Ron and asked, "What room is Hermione in?"

"I don't know," Ron answered.

"Didn't you visit her before," Harry questioned.

"No, mate, I was only with you."

Harry thought this was odd, considering the fact that Ron had said that Hermione was his girlfriend twice within the past hour, yet he had not visited her at all.

Walking up the front desk, the trio waited behind a rather tall man, wearing a suit that was more accustomed to Muggle wear.

"I'm looking for Madam Sidero," the man said in a deep voice.

"Fourth floor, room 514," the welcome witch responded in a bored voice.

"Thank you," the man said before taking off.

"Next," she called out.

"Hello, I was wondering what room Hermione Granger was in," Harry said.

"Hermione Granger," the welcome witch repeated, sitting up straighter in her chair. It was then that she locked eyes with Harry, as she suddenly blushed a bright red.

"Y-You're Harry Potter," she exclaimed with wide eyes, pointing her finger at him.

"Yes, he is Harry Potter who has a girlfriend," Ginny said, glaring at the witch.

Harry was about to say he didn't have a girlfriend, when the welcome witch suddenly laughed lightly, as she said, "Yes, Hermione Granger is in room 195, I mean 519…yes room 519 on floor four!"

"Thanks," Harry said, nodding his head at her. When he did this, she flushed an even deeper shade of red.

The three went over to the lifts and entered in them, before Harry pushed the button for level four. A few moments later, the left doors clanged open, as Harry, Ron, and Ginny walked down one hallway, before turning a corner. However, they suddenly saw Mr. Weasley approaching them.

"Dad, what are you doing here," Ginny asked in surprise.

"I was just checking in on Hermione," he said in a hurried tone.

"Is she still asleep," Ron asked.

"Asleep? Who told you that," Mr. Weasley questioned, as his brows pulled together.

"Mum did," Ron replied.

"Do you mean that she's awake," Harry inquired.

At this, Mr. Weasley squirmed uncomfortably, before he said, "Kids, I want you go up to the fifth floor and wait there for me."

"But dad, we're with Harry-," Ginny started but she was cut off by a stern look from her father.

"Just do as I say," he said.

"Well, I'll see you later, Harry," Ginny said with a smile and giving him a kiss on the cheek, before she and Ron turned and headed back towards the lifts.

Harry, however, did not blush as once they were away, Mr. Weasley turned to Harry and asked, "Harry, did my wife really say that Hermione was asleep?"

"She told me when I first woke up that Hermione was doing well and that she was asleep and needed her rest," Harry answered.

"That explains a lot," Mr. Weasley mumbled, "I was beginning to wonder where you were."

Harry looked over at Mr. Weasley and pressed on, "Why? Is Hermione awake?"

Mr. Weasley put a hand on Harry's left shoulder as he said, "Harry, Hermione is hurt, and she's hurt real bad."

Harry's heart suddenly began to beat wildly against his chest. "Hurt, how? Because of her parents?"

"Her parents…what happened to them," he asked in panic.

"They were killed. The other woman I apparated with back into the Ministry was one of their killers."

"One of the killers, meaning there were others," Mr. Weasley asked.

"One other, but he's…dead," Harry whispered.

Mr. Weasley nodded his head in understanding as Harry asked, "What's wrong with Hermione?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head back and forth as he said, "Harry, Healer Jones just did a brief check-up on her."

"How is she," Harry asked, as the palms of his hand began to sweat uncontrollably.

Mr. Weasley heaved a heavy sigh as he regaled, "Hermione has a grade three concussion, the most severe of its kind. She also suffered blunt-force trauma to her head and has a separated shoulder. Healer Jones also fears that she may suffer from mild muscular dystrophy as her deltoid, which is a nerve in her shoulder, was pierced roughly. She has a broken arm, which is on the mend, and to top all of that off, now her parents are dead."

Harry leaned back against the wall of the hallway he was standing in, before placing his hands on his knees, as he bent forward, gasping for air.

In the back of his mind, he had thought Hermione might be more hurt than Mrs. Weasley initially let on, but he never thought it would be as bad as it is. Why would she lie to him like that, especially about his best friend? He tried to even his breathing, as it became quite shallow with every passing injuring Mr. Weasley told him Hermione had.

"Is she awake," Harry nearly whispered.

"No, she hasn't woken up since you brought her back."

"Harry, I know this is hard for you, hearing about Hermione as she is, but I do need for you to answer some questions that I have for you," Mr. Weasley told him solemnly.

Harry looked over at him and asked, "Have you accepted the position Kingsley offered you about being the head of the Branch of Magical Law Enforcement?"

Mr. Weasley looked perplexed that Harry knew this, as he stuttered, "How do you know about that?"

"I was with Hermione when she visited Kingsley under my invisibility cloak," Harry said.

Mr. Weasley nodded in understanding as he said, "I'm just the interim head right now, as I have not accepted nor rejected his offer. Now, Harry, where did you and Hermione go exactly?"

"We went to Brisbane, Australia."

"And why did you go there?"

"We went to retrieve Hermione's parents."

Confused, Mr. Weasley asked, "Didn't they live in London? Why were they in Brisbane?"

"Hermione modified her parent's memories, so that they would forget they ever had a daughter and move away from London. She did this to keep them safe from Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"What happened right before you came back to London," Mr. Weasley then asked.

Harry sighed as he responded, "Hermione thought we had found her parents. She spotted her mum first, and we started conversing with her, until she led us over to meet her husband, who was supposed to be Hermione's dad. They invited us over for lunch at their house, when Hermione and I found her real parents. They were kept in a shed in awful conditions, with much of their hairs missing."

"Polyjuice Potion," Mr. Weasley asked softly.

"I don't know for sure, but it seems like it. After we found them, the shed exploded, and Hermione and I dueled her fake parents. I brought back one of them, and…killed the other," Harry finished quietly.

Mr. Weasley nodded his head as he said, "Harry, you can't blame yourself for that murder. You can rest assured that no charges will be brought against you as you and Hermione were defending yourselves."

"Do you know if they were Death Eaters," Harry asked.

Mr. Weasley nodded in silence. "The woman you brought back is here, Harry, just down the hall in room 514."

At this, Harry started shaking in rage.

"Why is she not in Azkaban," he seethed, now his whole body beginning to tremble, "she tortured Hermione's parents and made them live in inhumane conditions and you're telling me she's being treated at St. Mungo's?"

"Harry, calm down now-," Mr. Weasley stared but Harry forcefully cut him off.

"HOW CAN YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN?! HERMIONE'S PARENTS ARE DEAD BECAUSE OF THOSE DEATH EATERS! SHE SHOULDN'T EVEN BE HERE! HERMIONE IS LYING HURT JUST A COUPLE OF ROOMS AWAY FROM THAT KILLER!"

"Harry, rest assured that she will be transported out of here come nightfall, but she did sustain injuries herself," Mr. Weasley said evenly.

"Good! Too bad they weren't life threatening," he said callously.

Ignoring his last comment, Mr. Weasley said, "When she was brought here to St. Mungo's, they checked her arm and saw that she bore the Dark Mark."

Harry shook his head, not wanting to talk anymore about what happened back in Australia. Instead, he slammed his closed right fist against the hallway wall in frustration.

"I'm going to go see, Hermione," Harry said hastily, while his first throbbed painfully, before stalking away from Mr. Weasley, making his way towards room 519. Along the way, he passed room 514, where the Death Eater was being kept, as he noticed that there were two aurors guarding the door.

Harry then approached room 519, as he took a deep breath and slowly opened it. The first thing he noticed was that the room's lights were dimmed considerably. He slowly made his way towards Hermione's bed, and saw a horrific scene: Hermione's head was bandaged up, along with her arm and her right shoulder. Her left eye was black and blue, with tiny streaks of yellow, while cuts and scrapes lined her jaw. Her eyes were closed but Harry thought that she seemed to ache with every quiet breath she took.

His eyes started to water, as he softly touched her hand, moving his thumb in circles against her bare skin, as he gulped loudly.

"Hermione, please wake up," he pleaded softly, "please wake up. Come back, I want you to come back."

However, she was unresponsive to his calls. She continued to lie in bed, her chest rising and falling in an even manner.

He didn't know how much time had passed, and he didn't really care. All Harry wanted was for Hermione to wake from her deep slumber. It pained him, both physically and mentally to watch his best friend lie there, as he was unable to help in any way, shape, or form. A hole had been formed within his heart as Hermione remained unconscious.

For a long while, Harry sat on a chair next to Hermione's bed and just watched her, as if he was looking at her for the very first time, and in ways, he was. Hermione had changed, not just from the war, but she had changed through the fact that she had now lost her parents. Harry had to think of a way to make this all better, but how? How does one react when another looses so much…that meant so much?

After what Harry had guessed had been a long while, the door to Hermione's room opened softly. Harry didn't bother to turn around, as he wanted to see when Hermione first woke up. He promised himself that he would be right beside her when that time came.

"Harry," a familiar voice called out wearily.

Harry had to turn around and was surprised to see Neville Longbottom standing in the doorway.

"Neville," Harry asked, as he stood from his chair to greet his fellow Gryffindor, "what are you doing here?"

"I met Ron and Ginny upstairs, and they told me something happened to Hermione. I went down to the front desk to ask where she was and then I came up here," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "How is she?"

Harry looked back at Hermione's sleeping form but returning his gaze back at Neville and said with a small shake of his head, "Not too good."

Neville nodded his head lightly and said, "You know she'll wake eventually, right Harry? She's the strongest witch I know."

Harry nodded as he said, "I know."

As a moment of silence passed between the pair, Neville asked, "And how've you been, Harry, since everything has ended? I never did get a chance to speak to you after you defeated V-Voldemort."

"Truthfully, everything feels different. I guess we never really took the time to think what our lives would be like after the war ended. But, right now, it seems as if people expect me to go on with my life as if nothing has changed, when quite frankly, everything has changed."

"I know what you mean. Gran has been asking if I'll return and go back to Hogwarts in the fall."

"And what did you say to her?"

Neville replied, "I told her I couldn't think of that right now. Hogwarts was a battleground, Harry, one where many people that we knew were killed; people that we grew up with...people that we thought would remain our friends for the rest of our lives. How could we go back to something like that?"

"I know what you mean," Harry said, nodding his head. "But, to me, it's been my home for a while now."

"Are going to return to complete your seventh-year and take your N.E.W.T.s?"

"I haven't decided yet. I guess it all depends, really."

"On Hermione," Neville asked, raising his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Come on, Harry, why do you keep denying your feelings that you have for her?"

"She's my best friend, if that's what you mean," Harry countered.

"That's not what I mean and you know it," Neville replied.

Harry shook his head and said, "She's going to be hurting, Neville, and that's what needs to be taken care of first, before anything else."

"She lost her parents, didn't she?"

Harry looked over at Neville questioningly before he said in response, "Ginny told me."

"Yes, her parents are dead," Harry pronounced, as Neville cast his eyes down upon the tiled floor of the hospital.

"Actually, I was just visiting my parents also," Neville proclaimed.

At this, Harry smiled and asked, "And how are they doing?"

"The same, really," he shrugged, "what happened to them was irreversible but it's something that I have since accepted and have tried to move on from."

"Neville, I'm sure your parents would be extremely proud of you. You did a lot during the battle," Harry commented.

"That's what my gran said too," he replied, a smile curing his mouth upwards, "she said it was her honor to call me her grandson. But I really have you to thank, Harry."

"Why is that," he asked.

"With what you did during fifth year, setting up Dumbledore's Army and teaching us about spells and defenses, you did something that no one else did before."

"And what's that?"

"You believed in me and that is something that I'll never forget. You're one of the best teachers that I know, Harry, and I mean it. It truly is an honor that I can call you my friend."

With that, Neville stuck out his hand, in which Harry slowly shook, wincing slightly from his still-throbbing right hand, as he looked at Neville straight in the eye.

"You're a powerful wizard, Neville, and don't let anyone try to tell you otherwise," Harry said seriously to his friend.

As Neville smiled, he turned to leave after he said, "Don't be a stranger, Harry, though I'm sure we'll see each other over the summer. I'm coming back to help with the repairs to Hogwarts, which I'm sure you will too."

"Definitely," Harry stated, before Neville nodded his head at him, opened the door and shut it softly.

Harry then turned back to look at Hermione, who was still lying motionless on her bed. However, something Neville had said struck a chord deep inside Harry: did he have feelings for Hermione deeper than friendship?

He never gave it a fair thought, as most of his attention was either diverted towards Cho Chang during his fourth and fifth years, and then at Ginny during his sixth year. He didn't really seem to regard Hermione than anything more than one of his best friends.

But ever since the war had ended, he realized he has spent much of his time with Hermione. Quite frankly, if Harry was to be honest with himself, Hermione made him feel at ease with who he was as a person. There was something about her that Harry liked, and it only expounded further the days they had spent alone together.

It was then in Hermione's hospital room that Harry suddenly felt very lonely. He didn't know why loneliness suddenly sank within him, but it did. However, this loneliness was different from what he felt in his fifth year. Back then, it felt as if he was being shunned by the wizarding community and by Dumbledore, but now, he feared that everyone was moving on with their lives without him.

Plans were being made without his knowledge, namely that of his apparent wedding to Ginny, while Ron still had the understanding that he and Hermione were a couple, and Neville matured beyond imagination.

Sitting down again, Harry took Hermione's cold hands in his, as he whispered softly, "Hermione, don't ever leave me."

Harry didn't know what caused him to say those words, and he didn't know what kind of meaning they held, but he felt that he needed to say them.

Harry smiled softly as he squeezed Hermione's hand. However, his beating heart began to quicken when she softly squeezed back.

* * *

Chapter 7 will be posted Thursday afternoon. Thanks for reading.


	7. A Future that Follows

Chapter 7: A Future that Follows

"She's healing, Mr. Potter, but I have to warn you that it will be a very slow process. Miss Granger sustained very serious injuries to her head and shoulder that may have lasting implications," Healer Jones was saying to Harry, while they both looked at Hermione's un-moving form.

After Harry felt Hermione squeeze his hand just minutes before, his heart nearly burst with joy as he bolted from the room, after promising Hermione that he would be back very shortly, to fetch Healer Jones. Healer Jones was a tall wizard, with a pale complexion about him, while he wore black-trimmed glasses, as a mop of thinning, gray hair sad atop his head.

"But she will heal eventually, right," Harry asked, "from her head and shoulder wounds?"

"I cannot say for certain as her concussion is very severe, as she is very lucky her skull did not crack. You told me before that she landed on her head on a stone patio, is that correct?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

"You see, Mr. Potter, upon her landing on that stone patio, her brain slammed against the back of her cranium, which is not something that is supposed to happen. We have done everything we could in terms of any internal bleeding of the brain she might have. All that is left to do is for Hermione to power through the rest. A sharp piece of wood, on the other hand, pierced the deltoid in her shoulder, and when it did so, splinters of wood mixed in with her blood stream, which could have severe aftereffects but we have since removed them. However, she may not be able to rotate her shoulder completely; it is something we have to test if she wakes up."

"When she wakes up," Harry said forcefully, "not if, but when," he repeated, his bright, green eyes glaring up at Healer Jones.

He smiled down at Harry and said after a quiet moment, "Try talking to her, Mr. Potter. There have been numerous studies showing a positive correlation between patients being able to wake up from an injured state because of their loved ones conversing with them, in the cases of both Muggles, and witches and wizards."

Harry nodded his head in silence while Healer Jones looked over at Hermione one more time, before turning around and leaving Harry and Hermione alone.

He leaned over Hermione and said in a whisper, "Hermione, I'll be right back."

With that, Harry slowly walked out of her room, closing the door softly behind him, as he made his way over to the lifts. Once inside, he jabbed the level five button, as the elevator ascended one floor upwards.

There, Harry walked over to the small tea shop that was situated on the floor. He made his way up to the counter and ordered a corn muffin as he skipped out on having the lunch Mrs. Weasley prepared for him to come back here to watch over Hermione.

After paying for his muffin, he took it, turned around, and nearly ran into Ron and Ginny, who he did not know were still waiting at St. Mungo's.

"How is she, Harry," Ron asked, as Harry noted he had a worried expression in his eyes.

Harry sighed as she answered, "She's not doing too well."

"How bad," Ron questioned, gulping loudly.

"She has some pretty severe injuries that she received to her head, shoulder, and arm. She hasn't woken up since we returned from Australia."

"But mum said-," Ron started but he was cut off by Harry.

"Your mum was wrong, Ron. Hermione has not woken up yet and she's not doing any better than before," Harry nearly snarled, as his anger started to take control. "She lied."

"Don't say that about my mum, Harry. Don't forget who took care of you all of those summers ever since first year," Ron said, pointing his finger at Harry.

"What am I supposed to say then, Ron? Hermione is hurt, and she's hurt bad. She's lying unconscious and alone, in a hospital bed, after we thought that she was okay," Harry seethed. "Don't you care about your best friend anymore?"

Ron stared at Harry, his face a stone mask, as he retorted, "Are we going to ignore the fact that Hermione received all of her injuries while she was with you, Harry, down in Australia?"

Harry felt the veins in his arm throb in anger as his blood began to boil at an alarming temperature at Ron's words, as his left first crushed the corn muffin he had been holding in that hand.

However, before anything else could be said, Ginny stepped between them, placing one hand on Ron's chest while her other hand on Harry's chest.

"Let's just, calm down, okay? We're all worried about Hermione, and I think we're a bit too worked up in our emotions," she said calmly. "Ron, I think you should go down and visit Hermione, and Harry, you should stay up here with me."

Harry did not refute Ginny's suggestion, as he was so furious with Ron that he didn't think he would be able to be in the same room as him at the present time.

Ron departed towards the lifts without a backward glance, as Harry watched him go, his anger still churning inside him.

"Harry, let's sit down," Ginny proposed, taking his arm and dragging him toward a small collection of tables that had been arranged near a rather large window that overlooked Muggle London.

Harry walked over and sat down roughly, as Ginny said, "I'll go get you another muffin."

She walked away, her red hair flowing behind her as she made haste.

Harry's shoulders slouched forward as he sat at a lone table, noting that only two other people dotted other tables near him. His mind wandered over the question as to why Mrs. Weasley would lie about Hermione's condition. Didn't she tell him when he initially woke up that Hermione had already awoke but that she needed her rest? If Harry had known how severe Hermione's injuries were, he thought to himself how he never would have left her to go the Burrow.

A moment later, Ginny took a seat across from him and placed another corn muffin before him.

"Here, we can share this one," she said, "I don't think either of us had lunch yet, and I'm sure you're starving."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled quietly, as he separated the muffin into two separate pieces, giving half of it to Ginny.

"Harry, I want to ask you something but promise me you won't get mad," Ginny said.

Harry looked over at her as he took a bite of his muffin and replied, "What about?"

Ginny swallowed and said, "Harry, I want to know if anything, anything at all happened between you and Hermione over in Australia while you were there together?"

"What do you mean," Harry asked, though he had a feeling in the direction Ginny was headed in.

"You and Hermione took a trip together over to Australia, alone. Now, I know that you, Hermione, and Ron went off searching for horcruxes for nearly a year, but that time was different because Ron was with you. I don't think that you would ever cheat on me, Harry, but I want to know if anything happened between the two of you."

Harry scoffed softly as he said, "You know, Ginny, sometimes I can't believe you."

"What's that supposed to mean," she asked, glaring over at him.

"Hermione is severely hurt downstairs and you're asking if she and I were intimate with one another not even one day ago? Do you hear yourself?"

"Harry, there's no need to patronize me," Ginny said, seeming as if she was trying to calm herself down, "I just asked a simple question and I want an answer."

Harry stared at her for a long moment, as if he was truly seeing her for the first time. He came to the conclusion that he didn't recognize her as Ron' sister, or as his ex-girlfriend because the truth of the matter was that he didn't recognize her at all.

"Ginny, you've changed," Harry stated, shaking his head from side to side, "it's like you're a whole different person that I thought you were."

At his words, Ginny's eyes instantly started to tear up.

"How could you say that, Harry," she asked softly, sniffling.

"The Ginny that I knew cared for her friends, she was kind and was willing to stand up for what was right. She didn't back down from any challenge, whether she was being threatened by her brothers or from Death Eaters. But now, it's like I don't even know who you are anymore," Harry finished, his green eyes gazing over at her.

"Do you know why I ask you these questions, Harry? I ask you them because I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

A tear streaked down Ginny's cheek as she answered, "I'm afraid of losing you. When you broke up with me after Dumbledore's funeral, I understood that you had to go your own way to stop Voldemort, and I accepted that. I also accepted the fact that Ron and Hermione had to go with you as well. But did you ever think how hard it was for me to let you go? I didn't know where you were going, or what you were doing. I had so many nightmares in which you ended up dead, and I felt so helpless, because I was helpless.

"My mum told me that the ones we truly love always come back to us, and you came back, Harry. Before the final battle when I saw you alive, it was like I couldn't even think clearly because I was so happy that you had come back to Hogwarts…that you had come back to me. But after the final battle, you disappeared and you didn't tell anyone, except Hermione, where you were, and I started worrying about you all over again. You are my first, true love, Harry, and don't try to tell me that I don't understand what 'love' is. I waited for you, and hoped you and I would make it out of this war alive, and we did. Is it such a crime to want to know if my true love loves me back?"

After she had finished, silence fell between them, their corn muffins long forgotten. Harry pondered over what she had said, for he listened to her every word. Harry had to admit to himself that he did share romantic feelings for Ginny back during his sixth year; there was no denying that. But he couldn't say that he shared the same feelings she did when he was away with Ron and Hermione. There were instances that he experienced with his two best friends during their horcrux hunt that no one was able to experience because no one else was a part of it.

"Now, I want to ask you again, Harry: did anything happen between you and Hermione when you were together in Australia?"

Harry thought of no reason as to why he would lie to Ginny as he responded with a simple, "No."

Ginny nodded, as she tucked her head towards her chest, wiping away her other tears, as Harry thought he saw her smile. However, when she looked back up at him, her face was serious.

"Is there anything else you want to accuse me of," Harry asked in a cold voice.

As Ginny's mouth dropped open, they both turned their heads when a voice called out, "Harry!"

Mr. Weasley was walking towards their table with Kingsley Shacklebolt at his heels.

"We need to speak with you over a quick matter, in private," Mr. Weasley said, glancing down at Ginny.

She nodded as she stood to her feet and walked over to Harry and planted a kiss on his cheek. Seeing that Mr. Weasley was watching the pair, Harry thought that it would be unwise to pull away, though the bones in his body screamed for him to do so.

"We'll speak some more later," she whispered in his ear, before she went over to the lifts and was gone.

Harry looked up expectantly at Mr. Weasley and Kingsley as they took seats opposite of Harry. He noticed that Mr. Weasley's eyes had purple bags under them, while his short, fiery red hair looked almost as messy as Harry's. Kingsley, on the other hand, had a calm manner about him, as a single, gold loop hung from his ear.

"What do you need," Harry asked.

"Harry, I wanted to let you know that the Australian Wizarding Ministry officials are in an uproar over what happened down in Brisbane."

"What are they mad over: the fact that there were three people that were killed or that there were Death Eaters in Australia," Harry asked, feeling his anger rising again.

"Well, it is a combination of the two, really. You see, Harry, many international wizarding communities, including the one down in Australia, knew that we were at war with V-Voldemort and his Death Eaters, but they all thought that it was a domestic occurrence, not an international one. So, when the Australian Wizarding Ministry officials found out that Death Eaters had infiltrated their borders, well, they weren't too happy about that," Mr. Weasley explained.

"But what does that have to do with me," Harry asked sincerely.

At this, Mr. Weasley and Kingsley shared an uncomfortable look when Kingsley said in his deep voice, "They want you to stand trial in Brisbane."

"What," Harry asked, his eyes growing wide while his eyebrows shot nearly into his hairline. "Stand trial for what?"

"For the murder of-," Mr. Weasley started before Harry viciously cut him off.

"Of a Death Eater?"

Harry's bright, green eyes flashed dangerously as Kingsley said, "Harry, we are trying to work out these events with Australia's Magical Parliament Monarchy's Premier. I have been in correspondence with him after these tragic turn of events. "

"Do they understand who Death Eaters were…who they sided with…what they fought for," Harry asked. "I stand by what I did back in Brisbane as too many good people were killed during the two wars here in London."

"Harry, we both stand by the position you were put in over in Australia, as we would have done the exact same thing. The only problem is that Australia's wizarding community never underwent any war that resembled the ones we had here. They just don't know what we were up against," Mr. Weasley said.

Harry didn't nod his head, though he understood what was being said to him. Instead, Harry directed his gaze out of the window his was sitting by, looking down at the heavy foot-traffic from the Muggles going about their day.

"Well that's really all we had to tell you," Mr. Weasley said, as Harry turned his head to look over at him. "Any word on Hermione? Is she doing any better than before?"

Harry shook his head back and forth, indicating that there were no signs of any improvement.

Mr. Weasley smiled kindly over at Harry as he said, "Don't give up, Harry. She'll pull through this, I'm sure of it."

Harry nodded once at his words before Mr. Weasley and Kingsley stood to their feet. As they walked away, Kingsley turned back and said, "We'll keep you informed, Harry."

"Yeah, okay," Harry replied.

As they disappeared out of sight after entering the lifts, Harry rested his elbows upon the table he was sitting at. Harry thought that after the war, he would be trying to live a normal, quiet life. He never expected though, that he and Hermione would be attacked by Death Eaters in Brisbane, or that Hermione's parents would be dead, or that Hermione would be extremely hurt, or that he may be required to stand trial in Australia.

Maybe it was possible that Harry would never know the true meaning of normalcy. Perhaps for him, it was like trying to catch a whisper in the wind.

Sighing and standing to his feet, Harry gathered up the corn muffin wrapper and disposed of it, while he jabbed the lift button and waited for it to arrive.

In the next several moments, the lift doors parted and out stepped a familiar face, though he looked quite different from the last time Harry had seen him.

"Wasn't that quite odd, Amelia, that a raven was flying around downstairs? What would a raven be doing in a place like this?"

"It was most likely the cause of some creature-inducing incident, but never you mind Gilderoy, it is none of our concern," the healer said.

"Professor," Harry asked, walking up to his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Professor Lockhart?"

Lockhart looked over at Harry as Harry noticed his former professor's once golden locks were now gleamed with gray streaks, while the lines on his face became more pronounced. Harry also perceived that Lockhart walked with a slight bend in his back, although, his teeth gleamed as white as ever.

"Gilderoy, you never told me you had taught the famous Harry Potter," the healer exclaimed, looking over at Harry as her eyes lingered over his lightning bolt-shaped scar.

"Famous? Amelia, have I ever told you how famous I am? Perhaps, young Harry here can tell you all about my adventures I went on before! I faced so many dangerous creatures that I'm sure that Newt Scamander has never even heard of!"

"Yes, Gilderoy, you were just telling me the same thing when we were in the lift on our way up," the healer said, as Harry noted her name tag read 'Susan.'

"Yes, well, my adoring fans never do tire of hearing about my wild escapades, which I'm sure young Harry here can attest to," Lockhart boasted proudly, as he puffed out his chest in pride.

Susan smiled over at Harry as she whispered, "He really is such a kind soul, but I'm afraid that not many people ever visit him; although, one strapping young man did talk with Gilderoy earlier this morning."

Harry smiled politely at Susan as he replied, "I think that was my friend, Neville Longbottom; I saw him earlier today. He had Professor Lockhart as a teacher too, back at Hogwarts."

"It's such a shame Gilderoy doesn't have his memories of teaching there," Susan said sadly. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't find it in himself to feel all that bad since the last time Lockhart was at Hogwarts, he had tried to permanently erase his and Ron's memories.

"Gilderoy likes to take walks around St. Mungo's," Susan continued, "and it's good for him to not be cooped up inside the same ward every day. Well, I won't keep you, Harry, but it was nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too," Harry said, as he once again jabbed the elevator button, calling the lift up to the fifth floor.

As he waited patiently for the lift to arrive, Harry heard Susan call out, "No, Gilderoy, that is a trash can, not the toilet."

A smirk crossed over Harry's face as he entered into the elevator and descended one floor down below.

As the lift let him exit onto the fourth level, Harry walked across the white tiled floor, as the ward was quiet. He passed by room 514 where he noticed that the two aurors that had been standing guard before had since been withdrawn. Harry then saw a small assortment of black feathers that were scattered over the wing, as Harry guessed that Professor Lockhart had been telling the truth when he said before that a raven had been flying around St. Mungo's.

Harry quietly opened the door to room 519, and spotted Hermione's cataleptic form. His heart gave a mighty squeeze seeing his best friend like this, but for the time being, there was only so much he could do; he felt helpless, which struck him back towards the conversation he had with Ginny moments before, when she told him that she had felt helpless when he, Ron, and Hermione ventured on their horcrux hunt.

Sighing to himself, Harry pulled up the chair he had occupied ever since learning of Hermione's condition close to her bed, as he grabbed her hand and kept hold of it in both of his. He then noticed how cold her skin was.

Standing to his feet, Harry pulled up the blankets of the bed up to her chin to keep her warm, before he sat back down and once again took her motionless hand in his.

"Well Hermione," Harry started quietly, "Healer Jones said that I should try talking to you and see if that will help you wake up."

Harry pondered over what he should talk to her about, but couldn't really think of anything to say. All he wanted to happen was for Hermione to open her eyes, and for everything to be alright, but of course, that was just wishful thinking. If, no when, Hermione woke up, Harry thought to himself, everything will have changed; changed for the worse, and not for the better.

Harry sniffed as a small thought came to him as he started, "Do you remember, Hermione, when we traveled to the Ministry of Magic back in fifth year with Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna? You probably do because you don't forget anything, do you? Well, anyway, that night when that Death Eater, Dolohov I think it was, hit you with that purple flame, and you collapsed, I thought you had gone. I blamed myself over and over for what had happened to you, because you did warn me that that vision I had of Voldemort and Sirius down in the Department of Mysteries might not even be real, but I was so stubborn about it that I didn't even listen to you.

"I thought that I had lost one of my best friends that night, and it still haunts me to this day. I never told you this, but some of the nightmares I had were of you, Hermione. Even though you have proved yourself to be a powerful witch, I still feel the need to watch out for you because if something did happen to you, I don't know what I would do with myself. Of course, now that doesn't really mean anything seeing that you're here right now, and I couldn't protect you when you needed it."

Harry shook his head back and forth while he watched Hermione, thinking of how he had failed her. He cast his eyes downward at their entwined hands before he continued.

"Hermione, I just want to get away from here. I told you before and I had thought that I could never leave London, but now, I changed my mind. I just want to go to a place where nobody knows me, and I can start all over again. You were right when you said that people were always going to label me, and that I had a choice whether or not to accept those titles they gave me. But, sometimes I feel that I will never be able to escape from whatever identity people give me, whether it's 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Chosen One,' because that's who I am to them.

"Only a handful of people know me as anyone different. And even then, I feel that the people that know who I really am are pulling away, like Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. I don't think they understand, especially Ginny, that I don't want to be involved with her romantically anymore. But I'm afraid that I'll hurt her because she tells me that she's still in love with me. Also, apparently Mrs. Weasley has made our wedding preparations as well, which probably means she has started on yours and Ron's too."

At this statement, Harry stopped and frowned, thinking over what he had just said, as the impact of his words suddenly hit him will full force.

"I wonder what would happen if I actually did end up marrying Ginny and you wound up with Ron. Do you think we would still be as close with each other like we are right now? Something tells me we wouldn't be. I think Ginny feels threatened by how close you and I are to each other, but quite honestly, what did she expect? I've known you since first year, when you came into the compartment Ron and I had been in, looking for Neville's toad, Trevor. And even though it took us a couple of months to become real friends, we've grown closer to each other over the years, haven't we?

"You know that you're my best friend, Hermione, and you've helped me so many different times while at Hogwarts. Come to think of it, ever since the war ended, and with all of the time you and I have been spending with each other, I consider you more than a best friend, but I guess I'm nervous about what would happen if we took things further. Even though you told me you don't fancy Ron the same way he does you, I don't know even if you fancy me; in fact, the thought has probably never crossed your mind."

Harry returned his gaze to look back at Hermione's face. He noticed that the bruise that enveloped her eye had stated to twinge with yellow, as calm even breaths flowed into and out of her body.

Harry started to trace small circles with his thumb against her hand as he asked, "Where do you think we'll be in a month's time, Hermione? Or how about two month's time? Everyone expects something out of us, whether it is to return to Hogwarts to finish up our seventh year, or to start our careers, but what if we took some time just for ourselves? We just go away for a little bit and explore what the world has to offer. A part of me thinks that wizards can be kind of ignorant of everything that's around them. I mean, I might be wrong about that in a way, but who really knows?

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm nervous about what the future holds because it is so uncertain where I'll be and what I'll do. And even if-," however, Harry didn't get to finish as a rather harsh knock was heard upon the door.

He sighed as he stood to his feet, annoyed that he had been interrupted. He placed Hermione's hand gently back over her own stomach as he walked across the tiled floor of her room, opened the door, and stepped out in the hallway where he saw Ginny standing with Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes," he said expectantly, in an unkind tone.

"Harry, we wanted to tell you that Fred's funeral will take place in two days, around sunset," Ginny said, ignoring his cold temperament. "Afterwards, there's going to be a dinner at the Burrow."

"Okay," Harry said, not wanting to display his emotions when Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were so vulnerable.

"Will you come, Harry," Mrs. Weasley asked, as she clasped her hands together in front of her.

He shrugged his shoulders as he responded, "I don't know. It all depends on how Hermione is. If she feels like she can make it, then we'll go."

"What do you mean by 'we,' Harry," Ginny questioned, as she folded her arms across her chest. "Did you forget that I'm still your girlfriend, and not Hermione?"

Harry glared down at Ginny but with Mrs. Weasley standing right next to them, he still didn't have the heart to break up with her for good, although his head screamed at him to do so.

"I'm going to be taking care of Hermione, until she gets better," Harry stated.

"Why do you have to do that, Harry? Can't you just let Madam Pomfrey do that? I mean, it is her job after all."

"We're not going to be staying at Hogwarts," Harry stated, now crossing his own arms over his chest.

"What," Ginny whispered, his eyes growing wide in alarm, before she recovered and asked, "Well, I guess that means you are going to be staying at the Burrow then, right?"

When Harry didn't answer, Ginny continued, "I mean that would be better so that Ron can take care of Hermione since she is his girlfriend."

"Ginny, I'm taking Hermione back to Godric's Hollow," Harry said in finality.

Ginny gasped aloud as his words slammed into her, as she began to process what he was saying.

"So, it's true then, isn't it," Ginny murmured, her venomous eyes trained on Harry, "you did cheat on me?"

Harry rolled his own eyes and said, "No, Ginny, for the second time we did not cheat on you! I'm taking Hermione back to Godric's Hollow so that I can help her recover! I was with her in Australia when the both of us were attacked! I healed but she didn't! I feel responsible for what happened to her!"

"Harry, I understand that you are very noble and that is one of the many things I love about you! But Hermione is not your girlfriend…I am," Ginny said more loudly as she stamped her foot in frustration. "I just want things to go back to how they were for us before you left. Things just seemed so perfect then, and you even said so yourself!"

"What's done is done, Ginny. Hermione's injured and I need to help her get better," Harry replied evenly.

Ginny stared over at Harry for a long moment before she said, "This isn't fair to me, and you know it."

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on Ginny's shoulders as she said quietly, "Harry, you've got to understand where Ginny is coming from."

"I understand it completely but I don't agree with it. Hermione is my best friend and as I said before, I feel responsible for what happened to her," Harry replied.

"I know that, dear, but you and her are not together. She and Ron are," Mrs. Weasley retorted.

"Really, then why is Ron not here with her right now," Harry asked simply.

"He's trying to come to terms with the fact as to why Hermione invited you and not him to go bring back her parents from Australia," Mrs. Weasley responded with a slight edge in her voice. "I'm not blaming you at all, dear, but you really can't deny that her actions are somewhat questionable. After all, she did kiss him during the final battle."

Ginny turned to look at her mum and said, "What?"

"Didn't you know, dear? Ron told me about it a couple of days ago. That's how I knew she and him were together."

"Well then, I guess it is clear that Hermione has made up her mind with who she wants to be with. Now, all that is left is for Harry to do the same," Ginny remarked, turning her attention back towards Harry.

With that, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley turned to walk back towards the lifts before Ginny stopped, turned around, and said, "I still expect to see you Harry at Fred's funeral. The least you can do is show up." Ginny then flipped back around, as her red hair twirled about her, and she disappeared after turning a corner.

Unbeknownst to Harry, his hands had balled into fists at his conversation with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. He thought how incredible it was that when Hermione had yet to wake up from her injuries, that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were able to talk about relationships involving Hermione and him. How could they be so callous?

Shaking his head in anger, Harry's mind then wandered over to thinking about Fred's funeral. Harry would be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to attend, because after all, he was very close with both Fred and George, having giving them their startup money for their business, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, that he had won during the Triwizard Tournament. But, it was also true that he would only go if Hermione had the strength to, as he didn't want to leave her alone in the state that she is currently in.

He then berated himself for not breaking up with Ginny, right there and then. Clearly, she was transfixed upon the notion that she and Harry were still a couple, and it seemed as if nothing would deter her or her mother from that ideal. However, after turning his head towards the door to Hermione's hospital room, he figured he had more important issues to deal with at the present moment.

Harry softly opened the door to Hermione's room and stepped inside, as he then gently closed it behind him.

He made his way over to the bedside chair and settled himself in, his mind still reeling from his confrontation with Ginny and Mrs. Weasley.

Suddenly, however, he heard a low groan. Harry stilled, trying to distinguish if what he heard was from his own imagination or was it real. After several tense moments, Harry heard the low moan again.

He jumped up from his chair and looked over at Hermione, his eyes looking at her intently, as if his own blazing, green eyes were willing for her to wake up.

Hearing another groan, Harry leaned close to Hermione and whispered, "Hermione, please, if you can hear me, wake up. I need you to wake up…please."

As if by magic, Hermione's eyes fluttered open. Harry stared into her warm, brown irises, as a smile slowly crept across his face.

"Hermione," he asked softly, once again grabbing her hand in his, "Hermione, how are you feeling?"

She groaned in pain as she mumbled in a near whisper, "Harry, everything hurts."

His heart constricted at her comment while his smile disappeared as he nodded his head and said, "Okay, okay, wait right here, I'm going to go and get the healer."

He unwillingly let go of her hand as he raced towards the door. As he opened it, he turned back around to look at Hermione and said, "Don't fall asleep again, I'll be right back." And with that, he bolted out the door, turning his head left and right, searching for Healer Jones as his heart seemed as if it was beating a mile per minute.

As he turned a corner, he spotted who he was looking for.

"Healer Jones! Healer Jones," Harry yelled twice, as he raced up to him, "Hermione is awake."

Healer Jones looked down at him before nodding his head and making his way back towards Hermione with Harry hot on his heels.

They both entered the room a few moments later, as Healer Jones looked down at Hermione and exclaimed, "Why, Miss Granger, I am glad to see that you are awake! How do you feel?"

"My whole body aches," Hermione said quietly, "especially my head."

Healer Jones nodded as he took out his wand and said, "Miss Granger, try to lie very, very still for me."

Without waiting for an answer, he moved his wand over her in one long, fluid movement, as he then said, "You still have a concussion, Miss Granger, but I'm happy to report to you that you should not receive any lasting injuries. Also, your arm has made a full recovery, but your shoulder is still showing signs of little improvement. Wait here while I go fetch some potions for you to drink."

He then left the room while Harry approached Hermione, his smile gone from his face, though hearing that Hermione should have no lasting injuries, Harry gave a sigh of relief.

"Harry, how badly was I hurt," Hermione moaned.

"Pretty bad, Hermione, but you the healers took good care of you," he replied.

Hermione blinked several times before Healer Jones returned, with a tray laden full of glass bottles and cups. Harry saw Healer Jones concoct three different potions: one was a murky brown color, another was bright red, and the last was a yellow-green.

"Drink these up, Miss Granger, although I'm afraid they don't taste anything like pumpkin juice," he said, while Harry helped Hermione into a sitting position.

He handed her the murky browned color potion. After whispering 'thanks' to Harry, she downed the cups' contents, but not before her face turned a nasty shade of green.

"I feel obliged to say that that isn't even the worst-tasting one," Healer Jones remarked, as he saw Hermione's face change colors.

She drank the red potion with minimal effects, before Harry handed her the yellow-green potion. She tipped the chunky contents into her mouth, before her eyes grew wide and she dropped the empty cup in her lap, as she covered her mouth with her hand.

"Miss Granger, try to swallow it. That is the most important potion I have for you even though it tastes like rodent droppings," Healer Jones said.

Harry thought that Healer Jones might actually be making this harder rather than easier, as clearly the potions were of a foul taste.

Hermione closed her eyes, took a calming breath, and gulped loudly.

"Very good," Healer Jones said, waving his wand and making the potions table and Hermione's cup disappear into thin air. "I must inform you though that you will need to take these again around midnight. I'll be back, Miss Granger, but make sure you get plenty of rest."

"Thank you," she said quietly, as he departed.

Hermione lay back down, while Harry took his seat next to her bed.

"How long has it been since we came back from Australia," Hermione asked, not looking at Harry, but instead, staring up at her room's ceiling.

"Not even a day. We came back earlier today," Harry answered softly.

Hermione nodded her head in understanding.

"And how do you feel, Harry?"

"Completely fine, but I've been worrying about you a lot," he said.

"What were my injuries," Hermione asked.

"Hermione, are you sure-," Harry started before he was cut off.

"Harry, I need to know, so please just tell me."

He sighed as he relayed, "Healer Jones told Mr. Weasley that you have a severe concussion and blunt-force trauma to your head. You also had a separated shoulder. He said that a piece of wood pierced something in your shoulder as well, but I forgot what it was called exactly. You had a broken arm too, but that's been fixed."

Hermione nodded again as an uncomfortable silence ensued between the two of them. Harry didn't exactly quite know what to say as he could almost feel that Hermione was tiptoeing around the matter concerning her parents, before she dived in.

Harry swallowed and looked over at Hermione who was laying face-up as she still stared up at the ceiling, when he heard that she was crying softly to herself.

"Hermione…," Harry started cautiously but no words formed for him to say.

"My parents, Harry…they're dead," she said softly between her tears, as her shoulders shook.

Harry stood to his feet but cast his eyes downward and he stood next to her bed.

"Yes, Hermione," was all he could manage.

He took a chance to look up at her and saw that her non-bruised eye was bright red, as tears fell down her face, but she didn't bother to wipe them away. Her tears were real and genuine, as was her sorrow and depression. She covered her mouth with her hand as the full realization hit her.

Hermione shook her head softly from side to side as she whispered, "I failed them, Harry, and now because of me, they're gone forever. This is all my fault."

"Hermione, you did what you thought was best for your mum and dad. You had the bravery to modify their memories and have them move to an entirely different country."

"What I thought was best for them turned out to be why they died, Harry," she replied, as Harry could tell she couldn't her back her sobs. "I'll never see them again."

"Hermione, don't do this to yourself," Harry pleaded, as he took hold of both of her hands in his, "please, don't blame yourself. I've been there so many times before, and it's not an easy place to get out of."

"Why shouldn't I blame myself when all of this is my fault," Hermione asked, staring up at Harry, "my parents deserved better. They talked about growing old together, because they had so much love for each other. They had true love, Harry, and now, all that is gone because of me."

A fresh round of tears then began to leak down Hermione's face.

Harry wiped them away with one of his fingers as he said, "Please don't cry, Hermione."

Hermione whispered, "I can't help but think of how we saw my mum and dad in that…shed. They were tortured, Harry."

Her voice became of one that was haunted. The scenes she saw of her parents, Harry deduced, all came flooding back to her and she was forced to relive them, as if Hermione, herself, was now being tortured.

"All I tried to do was protect them, and I couldn't even manage to do that. But what did they do to deserve this," Hermione asked, "they were good, hard-working people, Harry, my parents," she choked out.

Harry continued to hold onto her hands even though her grasp had long gone limp.

"What did they do to die in such awful circumstances," Hermione asked, as this time, she looked directly at Harry.

"They didn't do anything, Hermione," Harry replied in a tender manner, "but the Death Eaters are vile. You know what they think of Muggles and Muggle-Borns."

"But how could one human being do that to another human being," she pondered. "I wanted my parents to be safe, but who knows how long they were tormented for."

"Hermione, you shouldn't think of that," Harry said, "it will only make you feel worse than you already do."

"I feel disgusted with myself, Harry," Hermione relented, "for letting my parents down when I promised myself and to them that I would protect them for as long as the war went on and thereafter."

"Listen, when Sirius died, I felt the same as you do right now. How do you think I felt when it was my fault he came to help us out after I ran off to the Department of Mysteries after I saw a vision that wasn't even real? I felt like I had killed him instead of Bellatrix. But, I realized that summer that Sirius wouldn't have wanted me to mope around, feeling sorry for what happened to him. He wanted me to continue to live my life, surrounded by my friends that cared for me just as he did. I'm positive that's what your parents want you do to as well."

Hermione seemed to ponder over his words before she returned her attention back towards the ceiling.

"You're right, Harry, I know you are. I just thought that I would have my parents with me for a long time. Their lives were too short," Hermione said, her voice cracking with every word she spoke.

Harry nodded his head as he said, "You're right, their lives were too short. But they can live on through you, Hermione. All you have to do is let them."

"I don't know if I can," she sobbed, "it hurts just to think of them."

"I know it does," Harry responded after a somber moment, "I know."

"Does the pain ever go away, Harry," Hermione asked innocently.

He regarded her question before replying honestly, "No, it never quite does."

"I'm sorry, Harry, that I'm crying over my own parents when you lost yours too," Hermione said.

"Sometimes, it's important to let out your emotions rather than to just bottle it inside yourself," Harry said, "I learned that from you, Hermione. You don't have anything to apologize for."

Harry and Hermione remained silent with each other for a long time, with each lost within their own thoughts. However, all the while, Harry never let go of Hermione's hands. During this time, Hermione's hospital room grew dark, as Harry noted that nightfall had befallen London.

Hermione was the first to break the silence as she asked softly, "Everything's going to change even more now, isn't it?"

Harry looked down at her and slowly answered, "Yes, it is, but we have each other now."

At his words, Hermione sat up in her bed, wincing while she did so, as she said, "Harry, can you please help me get up."

"Hermione, Healer Jones said that you needed your rest. Are you sure you should be getting up," he asked.

She apparently decided to ignore him as she continued to gingerly make her way out of the bed with Harry's help.

Once she accomplished this, Hermione limped over to Harry and carefully wrapped her arms around him, while he felt her shoulders shake against him.

Realizing once more that Hermione had started crying, Harry cautiously enveloped her in his own arms, as his own eyes started to water, both from seeing Hermione weep and in remembrance of his own parents.

"I loved them, Harry, so much, but I'll never get to hear them say that to me ever again," Hermione cried.

"Neither will I," Harry said back, as they stood there together, wrapped in each other's arms, as depression enfolded them.

* * *

Chapter 8 will see the return of a character that often gets portrayed as a foul human being. It will be posted this Sunday afternoon. If you wish, feel free to leave a short review. Thanks for reading.


	8. Grave Secrets

**Part II: Diamonds among the Rocks**

Chapter 8: Grave Secrets

Harry felt a certain soreness about him. He blinked his eyes awake to find his head lying on the edge of Hermione's bed, as he surmised that he must have fallen asleep.

He groaned at the kink in his neck, while he yawned and stretched his arms high over his head.

He looked over at Hermione who was silently staring off at the opposite wall, a blank expression on her face.

"Hey, Hermione, how are you feeling," Harry asked tenderly, though his was throat dry.

She snapped her head to look over at him as she was unaware he had awaken.

"Oh, good morning, Harry, I'm fine," she said rather too quickly for Harry to believe.

"Healer Jones said you can leave today from St. Mungo's," Harry said, "and I was thinking that maybe you could come back to Godric's Hollow with me."

Hermione managed a small smile at this as she replied, "That sounds nice, Harry, but are you sure it wouldn't be a burden to have me stay? I mean, I'm fine with staying at Hogwarts, you know."

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes as he responded, "Hermione, I've told you this before and I'll say it again: I have no problem with you staying with me at Godric's Hollow. It's really no bother at all."

"That's not exactly what I meant, Harry. You see, with my parents now…gone, well with how they, you know, left, I see them all the time, exactly how we found them," she whispered, "and it scares me."

Harry looked over at her to see that her once, warm, brown eyes had now morphed into pools of fear. Quite frankly, if Harry was to be honest with himself, he didn't think he would ever forget the repugnant scene for the rest of his life.

"Well that's why I think it's better for you to come with me because I'll be there for you," Harry stated simply.

Hermione nodded her head over at him as she said gently, "Just when we thought everything was over, this happens."

"Listen, Hermione, I'm sorry about what happened to your mum and dad," Harry said, "I know you were close to them and that it was hard for you to send them away during the war. From what you've told me, they seemed like great people and incredible parents."

Hermione laughed once as she responded, "They were great people but thank you, Harry. I'll miss them a for the rest of my life."

Harry grabbed her hand in his but before they could say anything else, Hermione's room door opened and in walked Healer Jones.

"Glad to see that you are awake, Miss Granger. As I told you last night, I believe that your condition is stable enough for you to depart from St. Mungo's today if you wish. Your vitals are strong, and you have received no permanent damage from the tests that I ran before. However, I must warn you that you must refrain from any and all stress-related activities for the next week while you rest and take the proper amount of time to recuperate. If you feel any pain in your head, shoulder, or arm, come back to St. Mungo's straight away, and do not hesitate to do so. Now, do you plan on staying by yourself?"

"No, um, I'm actually going to be staying with Harry for a few days," Hermione replied, looking over at her best friend.

Healer Jones smiled at this and replied, "That is an excellent choice to stay with a friend of yours. Mr. Potter, can I entrust that you will take good care of Miss Granger while she takes the time to heal?"

"Definitely," Harry responded at once.

"Very well, then, wait just a moment longer. I have a few forms I need you to sign and you two can be off."

With that, Healer Jones departed, leaving Harry and Hermione alone with each once again.

"I can't say how much I appreciate this Harry, by having me stay with you," Hermione said softly, "thank you so much."

"Don't worry about it," Harry retorted, "I like having you stay with me."

"Do you really mean that," Hermione asked.

Harry thought about her question for a long moment before replying, "Yeah, actually, I do," as he felt the tips of his ears burn a bright red. "It's better for me with you there also so that I don't become too lonely."

"I can't imagine Ron or Ginny being too happy about me staying with you," Hermione remarked.

"I don't know about Ron, but Ginny certainly isn't," Harry said, "I told her and Mrs. Weasley yesterday about how you were going to be with me in Godric's Hollow."

Hermione nodded her head as she then asked, "Did they visit me?"

"Ron did for a bit, but not Ginny or Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione nodded again in understanding as Harry saw that her mind was deep at work, thinking of something she chose not to voice aloud.

"Okay, Miss Granger," Healer Jones said, opening the door and reappearing, "I just need you to sign these two forms for me before you go."

Healer Jones held out two pieces of paper attached to a brown clipboard along with a pen. Hermione signed both papers and returned it to Healer Jones who nodded once.

"Excellent, very good," he said, taking the documents back. "Well then, Miss Granger, I do wish for you to make a full recovery, but remember what I told you before: if you feel any pain whatsoever, please come back to St. Mungo's without any hesitation."

"Thank you, Healer Jones," Hermione said, as she gave him a small smile.

As he turned to leave, a thought occurred to Harry as he stood up and asked, "Healer Jones, do you think it would be safe to apparate with Hermione's condition?"

"Ah, yes, I thought I might be forgetting something. I believe that Miss Granger is capable of side-along apparation after seeing her vitals return to normal earlier this morning. But that decision relies solely on Miss Gragner's ability."

Healer Jones turned to look at Hermione as he asked, "Do you think you're ready for apparation?"

"I think so," Hermione said slowly, nodding her head slightly.

"Very well and Miss Granger, your clothes are in that wardrobe over there," Healer Jones said pointing to the lone wardrobe at the far end of the room, before flashing a smile over at Harry and Hermione and leaving.

"Did you feel like going back now," Harry asked, looking down at Hermione.

She nodded as she responded, "Yeah, I would like to leave if that's alright. I can't say that I really like lying down in a hospital bed all day."

"Yeah, no problem. Uh, I guess I'll wait for you outside then while you get changed," Harry suggested as Hermione gave him a small smile before he walked out of the room and waited in the hallway for her.

As Harry waited for Hermione, his mind lingered over how he could make Hermione feel comfortable at Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow. Before, Harry and Hermione were recovering together from the war. However, now, Hermione was trying to recover over the brutal death of her parents.

He then had a thought of telling her about Fred's funeral that was set to take place tomorrow. If he could wager a guess, he assumed Hermione would be defiant in going to the funeral to pay their last respects to Fred Weasley. However, Harry had an uncomfortable feeling about traveling to the Burrow, especially with Hermione.

He knew that Ginny and Mrs. Weasley were uncomfortable with his current living arrangements of having Hermione stay with him, rather than at Hogwarts or even at the Burrow with Ron. But if Harry was to be completely honest with himself, he was leering towards the decision to inform Ginny that he was not interested in getting back together with her at all.

The room door opened suddenly and Hermione stepped out, dressed in a pale blue blouse and a pair of jeans.

"Are you ready, then," Harry asked.

"Not quite. Harry, I think we need to go back to Hogwarts to get our clothes," Hermione stated.

Harry had quite forgotten about that as he regarded her assessment before he said, "Yeah, we should probably do that. Shall we go then?"

Hermione nodded as Harry held out his hand for her to take. However, instead of doing so, Hermione walked up to Harry and wrapped her arms around his middle. He wrapped his arms around her and smiling slightly, Harry apparated them away in the next instant.

They appeared on the green lawns of Hogwarts castle under a perfectly blue sky. The trees of the Forbidden Forest swayed off in the distance under a warm, summer breeze, as the grounds were plagued in a certain stillness and quietness that gave off a sense of calm euphoria.

Suddenly, a loud and rough voice called out from behind the pair, "All righ' there, 'arry and 'ermione?"

The two turned their heads to see Hagrid was standing just feet away from them, as he appeared to be heading towards the castle.

"Hagrid," Hermione said as she ran up to him and gave him a hug.

He smiled and bent down to hug her in return when Harry suddenly called out, "Hagrid, try to be careful around Hermione."

The half-giant looked over at Harry quizzically before looking down at Hermione with alarm in his eyes.

"You didn' get too hurt, did you 'ermione," he asked.

She looked up at him as she replied with a fake smile, "Um, well not from the battle if that's what you mean."

Hagrid suddenly appeared to be scrutinizing her as he asked, "'ermione, are you all righ'?"

She shrugged her shoulders in answer as Harry thought she wasn't comfortable discussing her parents just yet. He decided to change the subject to save Hermione from answering any questions over what she had been up to over the past couple of days as Harry asked, "Were you heading back up to the castle, Hagrid?"

"I was, actually," he responded, "I was goin' to talk with McGonagall. But where have the two of yeh been? The both of yeh had me all worried 'bout how yeh were doin' and all after the war."

"Sorry, Hagrid," Harry apologized, "we just had to get away from here. I went back to Godric's Hollow and I asked Hermione to come with me."

"Godric's Hollow, huh," Hagrid remarked and he started walking towards the castle with Harry and Hermione running behind him in his wake, "I haven' been there since, well, since tha' nigh'."

Harry nodded as he said, "It feels good staying there though. It kind of feels like my home right now."

Hagrid smiled over at Harry as he replied, "So tha' where your stayin' now? I always wondered if you were goin' to go back."

"Hermione and I actually went there before when we were away. We also visited my parents too."

"They were grea' people, 'arry. I wish you could've spent more time with 'em," Hagrid said proudly as his eyes started to tear up.

"Well how has everything been here, Hagrid," Hermione asked as the three entered inside Hogwarts, "have they started the repairs?"

"They started an' all, but so far it's been a slow process. Righ' now, many people are focused on burying their loves ones, as they should. Arthur told me that Fred will be laid to rest tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Hermione asked, his eyes growing wide. "I didn't know that."

"The Weasley's didn' tell you tha'," Hagrid asked, a weird look plastered over his face.

"Ginny and Mrs. Weasley told me yesterday," Harry interjected.

"I guess yeh two are goin' to go," Hagrid remarked.

"Of course we will," Hermione said at once, as her voice sounded as if there wasn't even a possibility that they wouldn't attend, just as Harry had suspected.

Harry looked over at her and said, "Hermione, do you think you're okay traveling over to the Burrow with your condition?"

"Wha' condition are yeh talking about," Hagrid asked, looking from Harry over to Hermione and then back to Harry.

"Harry, Healer Jones said that my vitals returned to normal and were completely fine," Hermione remarked, ignoring Hagrid's question.

"Healer Jones also said that you should get plenty of rest over the next several days," Harry reiterated.

"Well, honestly, it's not like he told me to stay in bed and just lay around all day," Hermione shot back.

"Hermione, you need your rest! You were seriously injured," Harry said, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke, growing agitated at Hermione's stubbornness.

"Wha' do you mean, 'seriously injured'," Hagrid asked, but again the pair ignored him.

"Harry, we've known Fred for a long time. He's been like an older brother to us ever since we all became friends! You just can't ask me not to go."

"I'm not asking you not to go, I just want you to get better. Hermione, I don't mean for this to sound selfish, but you need to think of yourself. You were in the hospital for the past two days. I don't think it's safe for you to be traveling all over the place just yet."

"Harry, I think I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions," Hermione said stubbornly, "and I am going to the Burrow tomorrow."

"Wait just a minute," Hagrid yelled, altering both Harry and Hermione to his large presence once more, "'ermione, you were seriously injured?"

The half-giant looked down at Hermione in concern while Harry seemed as if she looked like she was backed into a small corner with nowhere to escape.

Harry sighed as he said, "Yes, Hermione was injured, but she's okay now."

"Did you ge' injured from tha' battle we had," Hagrid questioned.

Hermione shook her head from side to side as her eyes started to water. "It wasn't from that."

"Wha' happened then," Hagrid asked.

"Harry and I were attacked in Australia," she said as calmly as she could.

"Australia? Wha' did yeh go down there fer?"

"I sent my mum and dad there so that they would be away from everything that was going on here with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. I modified their memories so that they wouldn't remember they had a daughter...so that they wouldn't remember me. After the war ended, Harry and I went there to bring my parents back but…," Hermione trailed off as tears started falling down her face. Suddenly, she turned around and bolted up the staircase and out of sight.

"'ERMIONE!" Hagrid shouted after her but to no avail. He turned to look down at Harry who had watched Hermione run away.

"They didn' make it, did they," Hagrid concluded somberly.

Without looking up at him, Harry nodded his head and replied, "No, they didn't." Harry felt no urge to share with Hagrid the conditions he and Hermione had found her parents in, as the scene was to upsetting to even think about.

"But the both of yeh were attacked?"

"Apparently, two Death Eaters had been impersonating her parents for some time, but I don't know for how long. They invited us over for lunch and attacked us," Harry explained. "Hermione…she suffered from a lot of injuries. We just came from St. Mungo's."

Hagrid shook his big, burly head from side to side as he said, "It isn' fair, with wha' happened to you or her. I thought tha' everythin' would be over now, but now, this happens? Listen, 'arry, go find her. We can talk some more later, but 'ermione needs you righ' now."

Harry looked up at Hagrid and nodded, before he walked over to him and hugged him too, repeating Hermione's actions from before.

"I missed you, Hagrid," Harry said, when the hug had ended.

"I missed you, too. Now go along," the half-giant said, before Harry sprinted up the staircase of the entrance, a plan formed in his head.

He ran along the quiet and empty corridors of the castle, as each painting he passed created a whiff of gossip and finger-pointing.

Soon, he was huffing before the portrait of the Fat Lady, bent over, his hands on his knees, as he gasped for air.

"Come to laugh at me once more, did you," the Fat Lady asked in a brisk tone, as she sat in her chair, her nose sticking up in the air.

"No, I just want to get into Gryffindor Tower," Harry said between gasps of air, "I need to do something."

"And what do you need to do," the Fat Lady asked.

"Why do you care what I do," Harry asked back, annoyed that he was being delayed in finding Hermione.

"Well if you must know, I just cannot allow anyone entrance into the tower!"

"I lived in this tower for the past six years! All I need to do is get my stuff!"

The Fat Lady pursed her lips down at Harry before she said reluctantly, "Very well, but I'm only letting you in because I feel rather generous today," as her portrait swung open and Harry jumped inside without another word.

Bypassing the empty common room, Harry leaped up the stairs to his dormitory. Opening the door to find it empty, he sprinted over to his trunk that was still situated at the end of his four-poster bed.

He lifted his trunk open and dug around its messy contents before he pulled out what he had been searching for: a blank piece of some old parchment.

Taking out his wand from his jeans pocket, Harry pointed it at the parchment and said aloud, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Instantly after saying these words, the parchment bled with ink as an interior map of Hogwarts School appeared.

Harry's bright, green eyes quickly scanned the parchment, as Hogwarts was currently playing host only to a small number of professors. He saw that McGonagall was in the headmistress's office, while Professor Sprout was wandering just outside of the greenhouses. Harry, however, could not find a black dot that was associated with Hermione. Scratching his head in confusion, he wondered where she ran off to.

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head of where she could be: the Room of Requirement. Harry knew that the Room of Requirement nor its occupants appeared anywhere on the map. Nodding his head in confirmation, he pointed his wand at the parchment again and said, "Mischief managed."

The parchment then slowly became blank once more as Harry exited his dormitory with his wand in one hand and the map in the other, as he ran down the spiral staircase back into the common room, and roughly pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady, as she yelled about, "My word!" He streaked away, not noticing that the Fat Lady had stumbled out of her chair.

Harry's jet-black hair flew behind him as he ran at full speed up the staircase and towards the seventh-floor corridor. Turning a corner, he saw the blank space of stone stretched out in front of him, which was known as the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

Harry walked up to the large stone expanse and thought to himself, _'I need to know where Hermione is hidden, I need to know where Hermione is hidden, I need to know where Hermione is hidden.'_ He repeated the phrase over and over inside his head as he walked back and forth in front of the wall three times with his eyes closed.

He was unsure if this would work, but upon opening his eyes, he saw that a small, brown door stood before him.

Surprised, he reached for the door's handle and opened it marginally, peeking his head inside. What he saw was Hermione's shaking form, lying on top of a comfortable-looking couch. Two white flowers protruded from a small, glass vase that rested upon a small table that was situated in front of the couch.

"Hermione," Harry called out quietly, as he made his way into the small room, walking over to her, stuffing his wand and the Marauder's Map into his pockets.

He heard her sniff as she sat up and looked over at him with bright, red eyes.

"Do you mind if I take a seat," he asked, motioning towards the couch in which she shook her head back and forth in reply.

He took a seat next to her as she said, "I'm sorry, Harry, for running away like that. It's just that I'm so emotional over losing my parents and all of a sudden, I started thinking about Fred's funeral and about everyone that died during the war, like Remus and Tonks. Recently, it's been so hard to keep going."

"I know it is," Harry replied evenly, "but if we just stopped, all of their deaths would have been for nothing. They all died for a cause, Hermione, and it's up to us to make sure they continue to live through us. I'm not saying that it's going to be easy, because it's not. But we have our memories with those that aren't with us anymore. You have memories of your parents, I have small memories of my mum and dad and Sirius. And the both of us have memories of Fred, Remus, and Tonks."

Silence engulfed the pair as Harry looked over at Hermione as she seemed to take a long thought in thinking over Harry's words.

"Earlier this morning, before you woke up, I was remembering the last conversation I had with my mum and dad before I altered their memories," Hermione said.

"What was it about," Harry asked.

At his question, Hermione smiled as she answered, "It was about two different things. My dad asked me what I planned to do after I finished Hogwarts."

"What did you say to him," Harry asked.

"I told him that I most likely would go and work for the Ministry of Magic, in either law enforcement or fight for the rights of magical creatures. I remember my dad saying that he would support me with whatever I chose. My mum asked me about you, actually."

"Me," Harry repeated, startled.

"Yes, you," Hermione assured.

"What about me?"

At this, Hermione shrugged her shoulders and said, "I told my parents a lot about you, Harry, ever since we first became friends after you and Ron saved me from that troll on Halloween."

Harry smiled over at her as he lightly pulled her arm towards him so that she rested her head against his shoulder.

As she nestled her head into the crook of his neck, she continued, "They always worried about you, Harry, with everything that I told them. Although, sometimes I think that they were more worried that I was friends with you more than anything."

"Well, I can't say I blame them as being friends with me isn't too easy," Harry said to her.

"No, it isn't, but being one of your best friends is extremely rewarding. I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

"Even after everything that has happened?"

"Yes," Hermione said without hesitation. "I know that you tend to blame yourself for many different things, Harry, but don't think for one second that it is your fault that my parents died, because it's not your fault at all."

"Then why do I feel so responsible," he asked quietly, "why do I still feel responsible for everything that has happened?"

"I think it's part of the fact that you survived when so many others didn't. Harry, you accepted the fact that you had to die at the hands of Voldemort. You went into the Forbidden Forest with the thought that you were going to die, but, you didn't. It's like you said before: we were all fighting for something that we believed in. Unfortunately, some of us didn't make it."

Harry looked down at Hermione, lost in thought. After he didn't respond, she looked up at him for a moment, and the two of them locked each other in their sights. A pair of warm, brown eyes looked into a pair of bright, green eyes. For a long moment, Harry was lost in Hermione's gaze. He didn't know what it was, but something attracted him closer to her. He felt him reaching closer to Hermione as she too seemed to be pulling towards him.

Harry felt his heartrate increase at a dramatic speed as only inches from each other's faces, they stopped. Just as Harry was about to close the small gap between them, Hermione blinked and looked away, breaking their closeness.

Harry, somewhat disappointed in something he couldn't quite place, shook his head as if he was trying to rid himself of his momentary stupor. Clearing his throat, he stood to his feet and said, "Well, then, shall we get our stuff and go?"

Hermione looked up at him and nodded in silence. Harry walked towards the door and opened it. He looked back to see Hermione picking up the two, white flowers the Room of Requirement produced for her. She smiled lightly, as she tucked a lock of her brown hair behind her right ear. With the pair of flowers in one hand, she walked out of the open door in which Harry followed, shutting it behind him.

As the door disappeared, Harry asked, "How did you know the Room of Requirement was still there? I thought it was destroyed by Crabbe's fiendfyre?"

"I didn't know for sure if it was destroyed or not. I just ran to the first place that popped into my head which was the Room of Requirement," Hermione stated, shrugging her shoulders. "Actually, how did you find me?"

This time, it was Harry's turn to shrug his shoulders. "I looked at the Marauder's Map," he said, taking it out of his pocket to show her, "and I just thought to myself, _'I need to know where Hermione is hidden,'_ and it worked."

The pair descended several flights of stairs before turning a corner and walking down a long corridor in which the painting of the Fat Lady stood waiting at the end of.

As Harry and Hermione approached, the Fat Lady shot Harry a nasty look as she said, "Come back again, have you?"

Hermione gave the Fat Lady a questioning glance over her hostility that was directed at Harry. "Um, could we please get in?"

"Well that certainly depends on that one, over there," she remarked, nodding her head towards Harry.

"What do you mean," Hermione asked, her eyebrows pulled together.

"Well, if you must know, that boy had the manners to mock me several days prior, before he unceremoniously manhandled my portrait like a wanton gargoyle just several minutes ago!"

"I'm sure Harry didn't mean to do any of those things, did you," Hermione asked, turning to look at him with mirth dancing in her eyes.

"Oh, not at all," he said, unable to keep a straight face, as he smiled over at Hermione, who clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"Oh, sure, go ahead and keep your laughter going! Let's see how long it is before you beg me to let you inside the tower," the Fat Lady cried out, waving a finger-like sausage into the air.

Hermione turned to Harry and suggested, "Let's just go to Headmistress McGonagall."

As he and Hermione turned around, the Fat Lady yelled, "Wait, wait, wait just a moment! There is no such need to get the Headmistress involved in such petite matters, such as ours, now is there?"

"Well there is if you don't let us in," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

The Fat Lady narrowed her eyes over at him as she said quite nastily, "In you go then, you ungrateful swine."

As Harry and Hermione stepped over the threshold and into the Gryffindor common room, Hermione said, "You know what, Harry? Something tells me that the Fat Lady isn't too fond of you."

"Really? Is that all you've gathered over the past minute or so," Harry asked, as a smile started to display upon Hermione's face.

"Something like that," she responded with a smirk. "Anyway, let's go and get our trunks."

The pair ascended the spiral stairs as Harry and Hermione parted near the top to go and collect their belongings. A moment later, the found themselves exiting Gryffindor Tower, but not before the Fat Lady shot a few little snarky remarks over at Harry in which he ignored.

As they went walked down into the entrance hall of the castle, Hermione turned to Harry and said, "I think we should go and say 'bye' to Hagrid. I kind of ran off earlier."

"Yeah, okay," Harry agreed as they walked out of Hogwarts, down the sloping lawns, towards Hagrid's circular hut.

Once there, Harry knocked on the door and yelled out, "Hagrid, it's us!"

A moment later, the door opened as Hagrid said, "Come in fer a momen'!"

As soon as the pair walked inside, Fang instantly jumped on Harry, trying desperately to lick his face.

"Ge' down, Fang, yeh great brute," Hagrid said, pushing his dog off of Harry. "'ere, 'ermione," Hagrid said, handing a large, round plate to her, "this is a little gift for wha' happened. I made some of my rock cakes for yeh and 'arry to share with each other."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Hermione said genuinely, smiling up at him, "it means a lot."

"Oh, well, yeh know how I feel about yeh three, even though Ron isn' here righ' now," Hagrid said, blushing. "Will yeh two be back to help with the repairs an' all?"

"Of course we will," Harry responded, "we want to help out."

Hagrid nodded in reply with a large smile as then said, "Now, off with yeh! Ge' going!"

Harry and Hermione departed, waving their hands in 'good-bye' to Hagrid as he waved back. They stepped outside and grabbed hold of their respective trunks.

"Are you ready," Harry asked, looking over at Hermione.

After she nodded in reply, Harry wrapped his free arm around her waist. Thinking with all of his might of Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow, Harry and Hermione departed from Hogwarts castle, with both of their trunks and a plate of rock cakes between them.

They appeared in the living room of Potter's Cottage as Harry smiled contently of the feeling of returning back home.

After Hermione set the plate of rock cakes on a table in the living room, she took out her wand and conjured a glass vase out of thin air. Hermione placed the two white flowers inside the vase as Harry said, "Hermione, I'm going to put your trunk in the guestroom and don't even think about sleeping in the living room," just as Hermione opened her mouth in protest.

He didn't wait for an answer as he took out his wand, pointed it at both of their trunks and said, " _WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA_." Instantly, the two trunks were lifted up into the air, as Harry made his way up the stairs, levitating the two trunks before him.

After setting Hermione's trunk down in the guest room, Harry wondered whether he would be comfortable sleeping in his parents' old room. Before, he thought of it as a sacred section of the house, and he continued to think of it as such. Instead, he decided to place his trunk in his old bedroom.

Just as he was about to do so, he heard a knock upon the door downstairs. He heard Hermione yell out, "I'll get it!"

Just as he placed his trunk inside his old room when Hermione called out again, "Harry?"

"Yeah," he called back.

"Could you come down here please?"

Harry walked out of his old room slightly confused when he stopped at the top of the stairs, looking at who their visitor was.

Shock raced through Harry as he had thought he would never see this person again, yet here she was, standing at his front door. He noticed that her slightly curly brown hair framed her bony face, as the lines under her eyes and around her mouth were clearly visible. She stood looking up the stairs at Harry, as she was dressed in a beige blouse that was decked with red roses, paired with a brown skirt. She also had a rather large handbag hanging from her thin, left arm.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry breathed out.

She didn't smile up at him but instead, she nodded her head and said cordially, "Harry."

Hermione was looking up at Harry in nervousness, as she turned to Aunt Petunia and politely said, "Please, won't you come in?"

Aunt Petunia stepped into the home as Hermione softly closed the door behind her. Harry walked down the stairs, made his way over to her, and asked in a stunned voice, "What are you doing here?"

"There are some things that I would like to discuss with you, if that's alright. If you rather that I leave, I'll understand," she said.

"No, I'm just surprised to see you is all," Harry remarked, "I didn't think I'd see you again after you left Little Whinging."

"I never planned to visit this place, but I really do need to clear some things up with you," she replied.

Harry nodded his head as he gestured towards the living room. As Petunia walked inside, Hermione whispered to Harry, "I think I'll just wait upstairs."

However, before she could go, Harry grabbed her arm and said quietly, "Please, stay with me."

"Are you sure," Hermione asked, "I don't want to invade on you and your aunt."

"Please, Hermione," Harry said again.

She nodded her head and the pair followed Petunia into the living room, as she sat on one couch while Harry and Hermione sat on the other, with a single table between them, bearing Hagrid' rock cakes and the flowers Hermione took from the Room of Requirement.

Harry grabbed Hermione's hand just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating seeing his estranged aunt in Potter's Cottage.

Petunia turned her attention to her as she asked, "Who are you?"

"Oh, my name is Hermione Granger and I'm friends with Harry," she replied.

"And are you…one of them," Petunia asked in a quiet voice.

Harry could sense the confusion sweep over Hermione as he interjected, "Yes, she's a witch."

Petunia didn't nod in acknowledgement but remained stone-faced.

Harry, however, did have one pressing question he needed to ask. "Aunt Petunia, how did you know I was here in Godric's Hollow?"

"I found out that my sister lived her after she was killed. I made the funeral arrangements for her and her husband to be buried in that graveyard a couple of blocks away from here," she said, though not in an unkind voice.

Harry nodded as he continued, "And how did you know that this house was the one my mum and dad lived in?"

"Those people that went with us in hiding, I don't remember their names, but one of them told me that their house was on this street."

"But this house is supposed to be invisible to Mugg – I mean, regular people," Harry said, stopping himself from saying anything magic-related in front of his aunt.

She shrugged her shoulders and replied simply, "I was able to see it."

"And you just decided to stop by today," Harry questioned.

"No, I actually came by two days ago but no one was here. I also stopped by yesterday, but no one was here, either. I figured that today would be the last time I would try and visit," she responded quietly.

As an uncomfortable silence descended upon the trio, Hermione asked, "Would you like anything to drink? I'm pretty sure we have some tea."

"Tea would be lovely," Petunia said, as Hermione gave Harry's hand a strong squeeze before standing to her feet and walking into the kitchen that was towards the back of the cottage.

"Harry, before I left from Private Drive, I wanted to tell you something that I never got the chance to."

"What's that," Harry asked.

"Despite of my hatred for anything that had to do with your world, I did know of certain things. Before you left, I wanted to wish you 'good luck' with what you had to do. But, I couldn't find it in myself to do so," she said. "But I guess I can see that you didn't need it."

"Not everyone survived the war," Harry replied, surprised at what his aunt had just told him. "People that I was close with didn't make it."

"I know how you feel," Petunia responded.

"How?"

"Don't forget Harry, that the same night you lost your mother, I lost my sister," Petunia said softly. "We may not have been on the best of terms but she was still my family. As much as I tried to distance myself away from Lily, I can say that there hasn't been many days and nights where I didn't think of her."

At this time, Hermione returned with a tray, bearing three cups of tea. She set it down on the table and said, "Please, help yourself."

"Thank you," Petunia said, grabbing the teacup that was nearest her as Hermione settled down next to Harry once again.

As she took a small sip, Harry asked, "How is Uncle Vernon and Dudley?"

"Vernon is well and so is Dudley," she replied curtly.

"Uncle Vernon doesn't know you're here, does he," Harry asked.

Petunia shook her head back and forth and said, "No, he does not know I'm here. I came on my own accord. I felt it was long overdue to pay my respects to Lily."

"Can I ask you a question," Harry asked.

Aunt Petunia nodded her head as she looked expectantly over at him.

"Why is it that you and Uncle Vernon never got along with my mum and dad?" Harry knew as to why his mom and Petunia didn't get along, as he saw Snape's memories during the battle, but he wanted to hear if she had anything to add.

"It was many different things that happened when we were young. Lily was able to do so many odd things, and our parents were enamored by her unique abilities. I confess that I was curious about the things she was able to do but I hated the fact that my little sister received all of the attention from my mum and dad. Then, one day, that awful boy who lived next door to us became friends with Lily."

"His name was Severus Snape," Harry said. At this, Hermione audibly gasped and grabbed Harry's hand again.

"Oh, yes, now I remember his name," Petunia said, as she had a faraway look in her eyes. "I spent so many years trying to forget all about him…well, anyway, he and Lily became close friends and I became jealous of their friendship. There was something odd about him that I didn't like, nor did I trust. He didn't like me either, but from my point of view, the fact that he didn't like me was never counted as a loss.

"Then, the Hogwarts letter came to Lily. I remember the day that she got her letter. A person from that world dropped it off, explaining everything about the 'magical' world to her and my parents."

"Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt but did you parents believe the witch or wizard that told them about the magical world," Hermione asked suddenly.

"At first, they were skeptical but they knew something was different about Lily. The witch who visited us then suddenly transformed our kitchen table into a lion. It scared both of my parents and myself, before the witch changed it back again."

"I had the same experience with my family," Hermione said, nodding her head. "One of the professors at Hogwarts, her name is Professor McGonagall, came to visit my family and I with my Hogwarts letter. But instead of changing our furniture into animals, she transfigured herself into a cat, which is her animagus form."

Harry was positive that his aunt would have no idea what the word 'animagus' means, but Petunia seemed to regard Hermione somewhat differently.

"You mean that you didn't have parents that were different," Petunia asked, whispering the work 'different.'

Hermione shook her head as she answered, "No, I'm actually quite like your sister and Harry's mum. My parents were non-magical, meaning that they're Muggles. They always thought that something was different about me when I was growing up but they appreciated it all the same."

Petunia nodded once before she continued, "As you can probably guess, I was jealous of Lily when she got her letter. I was so jealous that I wrote a letter to the head of Hogwarts at that time, someone by the name of Dumbly, I think."

"Dumbledore," Harry corrected her.

"Oh, yes. Well, I wrote a letter to him asking if I was able to study there with Lily but he declined. The years that Lily went to Hogwarts, I rarely spoke with her. My parents knew that something had changed between Lily and I, and they always tried to repair our relationship, but I was extremely stubborn about the whole ordeal. It is something that I regret now, but my regrets have no meaning today.

"Anyway, when I met Vernon, I hesitated at first to tell him about Lily and her uniqueness. I was very fond of Vernon and I didn't want to drive him away about my peculiar family. But when I eventually did tell him of Lily, he told me that he wouldn't judge me any differently."

"Did Uncle Vernon and my dad ever meet," Harry asked curiously.

"Oh yes, they might twice, but the two times they did meet didn't turn out well out all. I remember the first time they met was with me and Lily. Lily called me to meet at a restaurant in London after we spent nearly four years of not saying one word to each other. I believe this was after both Lily and James finished school. Vernon was trying to impress James about a new car he had just bought, the 1977 Ford Cortina. But, James wasn't at all impressed. In fact, all he could talk about the entire time we were together was some sort of broomstick he would ride upon."

Harry laughed at this, trying to imagine a scenario of his father and his uncle, talking with each other about cars and broomsticks.

"Well, naturally, Vernon thought James was some sort of weirdo who collected too much unemployment benefits, and we left. I felt bad about that night, because even though I too thought James was rather odd, I saw my sister cry when we left. I always hated to see her cry, but I guess that deep down, I knew that she cried a lot when I wouldn't speak with her at all. I couldn't admit to myself that I was the problem, that I was causing my sister so much distress when all she wanted to do was to have some sort of relationship with me."

As Petunia told her story, Harry felt that Hermione had squeezed his hand harder and harder with each passing word his aunt uttered.

"What about the second time they met," Harry asked, ignoring the fact that the hand Hermione had been squeezing had gone numb.

"The second time was much worse than the first. It was at our wedding. I remember seeing James walking over to Vernon and I, when Vernon loudly said to those near him about how he thought that 'magicians' belonged in a circus. I could tell that James didn't take to kind to what Vernon had said, as Lily pulled him away from us. But, at my wedding, that was the last time I ever saw my sister."

"You didn't see my mum at her wedding," Harry asked.

Aunt Petunia shook her head as she said somewhat sadly, "Vernon and I decided not to attend. He couldn't fathom being anywhere near James and even though I missed my sister, I also didn't want to upset Vernon. However, soon after your parents married, our mother was stricken with cancer. Lily and I disagreed on what was a better option for her to undertake. I wanted to do what our mum's doctor order for her to do, while Lily insisted that there were better treatments in her world, in which our mother would bypass any pain caused by the cancer treatment. We bickered for a long time; too long, in fact, because our mum died with us quarreling at her bedside."

At this moment, Hermione's free hand latched onto Harry's arm. He never knew that Aunt Petunia and his mum's dislike had grown to what was being described to him at that moment.

"After our mum passed away, I refused to speak to Lily at all, and I blamed her for our mother's death. I remember receiving a letter from her almost a year afterwards, saying that she was sorry and wanted to meet again, but I burned her letter. The last piece of mail I received from Lily was her informing me of your birth, Harry. But soon after, well, I don't need to tell you what happened."

Harry gazed over at his aunt and noted that her eyes had begun to water. "Why are you telling me all of this now?"

"I regret everything that happened with Lily. It may not seem like it, especially with how Vernon and I treated you when you were with us, but despite everything that I've told you, I loved my sister; I loved her dearly. I remember all of the times we would go and take a swim in a pond near our house during the hot summer months; or when we stayed up all night, talking about the latest episode of 'Blue Peter'; or how we would braid each other's hair every other evening.

"When I was told that she was murdered, I was shocked and devastated. I tried to work up the courage to write to her, to tell her that I wanted to meet her somewhere to try and solve all of our long-running issues we held each other accountable for. But that courage never came, and before long, I had run out of time. I'm not telling you this, Harry, to ask for your forgiveness, because I am long past that, but all of these years, I've never been able to talk about my sister to anybody, especially Vernon, however, I wanted to talk about Lily. If I could, I would go back in time and change the relationship I had with my sister. But, I can't. Also, I wanted to give you something that belongs to you, Harry."

Harry watched with a puzzled expression on his face as Aunt Petunia set down her tea cup and reached into her handbag and pulled out a bright green blanket and handed it over to Harry.

"This is what you were wrapped in when you arrived on our doorstep," she said.

Harry took the blanket from his aunt in awe. This was yet another piece Harry had come into contact with in which his mother had once touched long ago.

"The blanket is lime green because apparently, James loved Lily's eyes. She mentioned it to me some time ago. It's her eyes that you inherited. I kept it all of these years because it was the last connection I had with my sister, just the two of us."

"Thank you," Harry whispered, looking at his aunt directly in the eye. She looked over at him and managed to smile.

"Well, it is time that I should be off," Petunia said, standing to her feet.

Harry set down his old blanket and stood to his feet with Hermione.

"Thank you for coming over," Harry stated, "I never would of dreamed of this."

Aunt Petunia looked over at Harry sadly and said, "I know you had a terrible childhood Harry, after losing your mother and father when you were baby, and I know that you hated living with Vernon, Dudley, and I as well because you deserved better…my sister deserved better for her child that than I gave to you. For that, I apologize. I can't speak for Vernon, but I am sorry for the way I treated you. You deserve to be happy, Harry." Aunt Petunia looked quickly at Hermione before turning back to Harry and saying, "And I'm sure you will be."

Giving the pair another small smile, Petunia walked out of the living room, with Harry and Hermione right behind her.

Harry opened the door for his aunt as she turned once more to look at him.

"Good-bye, Harry." With that, Aunt Petunia walked out of the door of Potter's Cottage, maneuvered her way between the chest-high grass, and exited through wooden gate.

As she opened her car door and got inside, Harry looked down at Hermione and saw that her eyes looked heavy as her mouth was conformed into a frown.

"Hermione, are you all right," Harry asked.

She nodded her head in answer as she said quietly, "It's sad, Harry, with everything your aunt told you today."

"I know," Harry said, as he pulled Hermione against his chest, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

They watched as Aunt Petunia drove away and disappeared down the lane. Little did they know that that would be the last time Harry ever saw his aunt again.

* * *

Author's note: I know that Aunt Petunia is described differently in the books, but for some reason, the film version of that character is what I identify with more. Chapter 9 will be posted either late Wednesday night or early Thursday morning, US Eastern time (most likely it will be posted Thursday morning). Thanks for reading.


	9. A Dream of the Void

Chapter 9: A Dream of the Void

Harry softly shut the door to Potter's Cottage as he turned to Hermione and asked, "Can you come upstairs with me? I want to show you something."

"Sure," Hermione replied in a quiet voice, as Harry led the way up the staircase as she followed close behind.

Once they arrived on the landing, Harry made an immediate right, opened the door to the guest bedroom, and said, "So, I think it would be best if you slept in here. You can feel free to decorate it however you want to."

"You mean, I can stay here until I return to Hogwarts," Hermione asked with wide eyes.

"Oh, so you're definitely going back then," Harry inquired.

At this, Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she said, "Well, I think I am. I mean, I never said that I wouldn't go back."

"But you never said you would, either," Harry pointed out. "The last time I asked you, you said you were thinking about it."

"Professor McGonagall hinted that she would see me during the fall term. I think everyone is expecting me to go back," Hermione explained, "even myself."

"Well, do you want to go back," Harry asked, "because you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I know," Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around herself, "I guess I should weigh my options and see after that. Have you thought anymore about finishing Hogwarts?"

"Not really," Harry replied honestly, "but right now, I think I'm leaning towards not returning."

Hermione nodded in understanding as she asked, "So do you think that you're going to start working for the Ministry then?"

Now it was Harry's turn to nod his head as he said, "I'm still interested in becoming an auror. I think that that's what I'll go for. But, anyway, Hermione, you can stay here for as long as you like. Even if you decide to go to Hogwarts, you can always come back here during the winter holiday. And don't think you're ever intruding because you're not," he insisted.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, smiling over at him. "Are you going to be staying in your parents' old room," she questioned.

"For some reason, I can't bring myself to do so. For now, I put my trunk in my old bedroom," he clarified, leading Hermione out of her room and into his own, which was situated right next to hers.

Harry and Hermione spotted the white crib that was resting against one of the pale blue walls of his old room, while an old rocking chair stood next to it.

"I guess I'm going to have to make some changes to this room as well," Harry remarked, taking out his wand.

However, before he could do anything, Hermione rested her hand upon his arm and asked, "Harry, are you sure you don't want to keep anything?"

"What would I keep," he asked, pulling his eyebrows together.

"I don't know," Hermione said as she walked away from him and towards his crib. "You don't feel any attachment to your old bedroom?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Honestly, I don't. I have no memory of it. I think it would be better to just start all over with my room, don't you?"

"You can do whatever you want with it, Harry. I just don't want you get rid of something that you'll regret later."

Harry looked over at her before he walked towards his old crib and looked at the half a dozen stuffed animals that were resting there. He glanced sideways at Hermione who was smiling down the fuzzy, inanimate creatures.

"Do you want to keep them, Hermione," he asked.

"Me?" Hermione directed a finger at her own chest in surprise.

Harry nodded in answer.

She looked back down at the crib, pointed, and said, "Well, I do think that dog is rather cute, and the mooncalf, too."

At her words, Harry picked up the two stuff animals, and asked, "Anything else?"

"Definitely the owl," she stated.

Harry reached down and grabbed the owl.

"Here you go then," Harry said, handing over the stuffed creatures to Hermione, who smiled down at them.

"You're just going to give them over to me," she questioned.

"Well I'm certainly not going to make you pay for it," Harry shot back playfully.

"And what are you going to do with the rest?"

"Everything else I'm going to get rid of," Harry said. He then trained his wand at his old crib and said, " _EVANESCO_." Suddenly, his old crib disappeared, along with the remaining stuffed toys. Harry repeated this action while pointing his wand at the old rocking chair.

He then waved his wand in one fluid motion into the air and a single mattress appeared, as it flopped down onto the carpeted floor.

However, before he could do anything else, a set of gold and scarlet sheets suddenly appeared, wrapping themselves over his newly conjured mattress.

He looked over to see that Hermione had her wand out with a satisfactory smirk spreading across her face.

"I could've done that, you know," Harry said to Hermione with good humor.

"I know, but consider this a small 'thank you' for letting me keep some of your old stuffed animals," she replied lightly.

"You could've kept them all if you wanted to," Harry told her.

He saw her scrunch up her face at his statement. "I didn't want the others; just these three," she said, looking down at the dog, mooncalf, and owl cuddled under her arm.

"Anyway, Harry, I think that if you and I are going to stay here for a while, we're going to need some food. Before, when I made tea for your aunt, I noticed that the kitchen was nearly empty."

Harry nodded as he said, "Okay, I'm pretty sure there's a shop in town where we can go."

"There is," Hermione answered, "I saw one when we took a walk around Godric's Hollow the night before we left for Australia."

"Do you want to go now, then," Harry asked.

"Sure, let me put these away really quickly," Hermione said, nodding down to her new soft toys, as she walked out of Harry's room and into her own.

As she was doing this, Harry made his way over the window of his room and looked out of the dusty pane at the quiet street down below. He sighed in contentment at the calmness that seemed to enclose Godric's Hollow. He thought over everything that had happened over the past couple of days, with traveling to Australia, Hermione's parents being killed, Hermione lying in St. Mungo's with severe injuries, and Aunt Petunia visiting him just moments ago. Harry thought that after the war, his life would begin to settle down, not pick back up.

"Are you ready, Harry," Hermione asked softly from behind him.

He turned around to see that she was leaning against the door frame of his room with her arms folded over her chest, and her beaded bag slung over one shoulder.

"How long were you watching me for," he asked with curiosity.

She shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "Not too long, just a few seconds or so."

He nodded his head in understanding before he said, "Yeah, I'm ready, let's go."

With those words, Hermione turned around while Harry followed. As she made her way down the stairs, Harry passed by her open bedroom and briefly looked inside when a thought came over him.

Looking down at Hermione who had just stepped out the front door, Harry took out his wand and pointed it at her bed. Smiling to himself, he wondered how Hermione would react when she saw that her bed sheets were now colored with green and silver.

Laughing inwardly, Harry made his way down the steps and out the front door, when he closed it behind him. Walking between the chest-high grass, he strolled out of the rickety, wooden gate, where Hermione stood waiting for him.

Without thinking about it, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they made their way slowly down the lane.

The tall, green trees swayed visibly with the warm, summer breeze. A bundle of leaves flew across the cobble-stoned streets of the village, as fluffy white clouds started to dot the sky overhead. As the two turned a corner, they passed by another couple, with whom they smiled politely at.

"Harry," Hermione suddenly called out.

"Yeah," he responded.

"Were you going to tell me about Fred's funeral?"

When he looked down at her, he saw that she was gazing at the nearly empty lane ahead. "Of course I was. I didn't know if we were going to go is all," he replied.

"Why wouldn't we go," Hermione questioned.

"Healer Jones said that you needed rest, Hermione. If you couldn't make it, then I wasn't going to go either."

"Why not?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders somewhat awkwardly as he replied, "Because I think that it would be best if someone stayed with you until you got better, is all. I didn't really want to leave you alone here when I went to his funeral."

Hermione nodded her head as she then asked, "Is it just his funeral that's going to take place tomorrow?"

"Ginny also said that there's going to be a dinner afterwards at the Burrow," Harry answered.

"Is he going to be buried at the Burrow?"

Harry thought about his before he responded, "Um, I'm not exactly sure. Ginny didn't say."

After they were silent for a moment, Hermione inquired, "And how is Mrs. Weasley doing?"

"Truthfully, it seems to me that she's more concerned about my and Ginny's relationship as well as yours and Ron's. It's weird but she doesn't seem too focused on Fred at all."

"Maybe that's how she's coping with his death, by directing her attention elsewhere. I remember that when my grandmother died on my mum's side, my mum went into a cleaning frenzy; all she could do for several days was clean and re-clean our entire house," Hermione remembered. "When it came time to bury my grandma, she was distraught."

"That's possible," Harry said, omitting the fact that Mrs. Weasley seemed rather unconcerned about Hermione's condition while she was at St. Mungo's, going so far as to lie to Harry about how Hermione was faring after they returned from Australia.

"Everyone has different ways to deal with their own emotions," Hermione continued, "I just can't believe that he's gone."

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand in response while she squeezed back.

As the pair entered into the central district of Godric's Hollow, Harry noticed that more and more people were out and about.

After Harry and Hermione passed by a couple pushing along a stroller in front of them, Hermione turned to look up at Harry as she asked, "Harry, I almost forgot: what about Teddy Lupin?"

Harry looked down at her in surprise, just now remembering his godson, and replied rather guiltily, "Oh yeah, with everything that has happened, I actually hadn't thought of him!"

"I think you should go and visit him," Hermione stated.

"Yeah, I should probably do that soon," Harry wondered aloud. "There's just so many things to do now."

Hermione nodded her head as she said quietly, "I know but that's what happens after a war. The wizarding community nearly fell apart. Now it's up to everyone that survived to put it back together."

"And how long do you think it'll be before the wizarding community will be as it was before the war," Harry asked her inquisitively.

"I don't know…I don't know if it'll ever be as it was before. So many things have changed, Harry, and some of those changes are irreversible," Hermione positioned in a somber tone.

Harry thought over what she had said as they entered into a small grocery store. They strolled down one isle, before Hermione and Harry parted ways. She went over to her right, while Harry salvaged the Muggle snack area.

Some minutes later, they met back up, as Harry noticed she was carrying a small basket full of a colorful selection of fruits and vegetables.

"Harry, did you empty out the store of its snacks," Hermione asked, looking down at what he hand in his hands.

"No, just the stuff that looked good," he replied sincerely.

"What do you have? Hobnobs, maltesers, and irn bru? Really," she asked, fixing a stern gaze upon her face, unimpressed with what he had picked out.

He shrugged his shoulders boyishly while grinning over at her. After a few quick moments, her face broke out in a small smile, as she rolled her eyes, and said, "Fine, let's go pay for these things."

They stepped in line as Harry laughed, before he suddenly turned quite serious as he leaned down and whispered in Hermione's ear, "I haven't got any Muggle money with me."

She turned to look at him and replied, "Don't worry about it. I've got some right here," patting her beaded bag that was still suspended over her shoulder.

However, before he could reply, they both heard a slight commotion at the check-out counter feet away from them.

An elderly man, wearing a white ivy cap with hunched over shoulders, yelled, "The advertisement said that the frazzles were a two for one deal!"

"Sir, that special expired last week," the young male clerk said, in as calm a voice as he could muster.

Apparently, this further angered the elderly customer as he shouted, "Fine! I'm outta here!" He then threw the bag of frazzles at the clerk and walked out of the market, hollering about the 'young and the useless.'

"Next," the store clerk said, ignoring the small argument that had just taken place.

Hermione turned to face Harry as she said, "Well that was strange, wasn't it?"

"I don't know, frazzles are really good," Harry remarked.

Hermione lightly punched his arm, shaking her head in mock absurdness.

A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione walked out of the grocery store, hand in hand, while Harry also was carrying a brown bag full of the items they had purchased.

"By the way, how are you feeling," Harry asked.

Hermione looked over at him and replied, "What do you mean?"

"Your injuries. Does your head and shoulder feel okay?"

"They both feel fine, actually. It doesn't even feel like they were injured at all," she answered.

Harry nodded his head with satisfaction, pleased that at least Hermione's physical ailments were not bothering her.

Harry and Hermione walked on together in a comfortable silence before Harry opened the wobbly wooden fence of Potter's Cottage for Hermione to step through first, as she then opened the front door for Harry to step through.

As they walked towards the back of the cottage towards the kitchen, Hermione asked, "Harry, are you hungry?"

"I'm starving," he said, realizing only now that he didn't have any breakfast at all that morning.

Hermione nodded her head as she said, "Since you cooked for us last time, I'll cook for us today."

"When did I cook the last time," Harry asked, shooting Hermione a puzzled look, after he set the bag of groceries down on the kitchen table.

"When we were at Grimmuald Place back in London," she shot back. "Just relax for now, my dad taught me a few things in the kitchen."

"Your dad," Harry asked, surprised.

"Yeah, he loved to cook, and I helped him when I was younger," she responded.

However, just then, they both heard a noise against the kitchen window. Startled, Harry and Hermione both looked over and saw that Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, was pecking away at the glass panes.

Hermione flicked her wand over at the window, in which it flew open, letting the excited owl fly around, over the heads of Harry and Hermione.

After Pigwidgeon flew around a few more times, he landed in front of Harry, dropping two envelopes before him, before giving him a small _HOOT_.

"I guess you want something after coming all this way, don't you," Harry guessed, after reaching into the grocery bag and pulling out thin box of maltesers. He opened it, took one out, and offered it to Pigwidgeon.

At first, the owl seemed somewhat cautious about what Harry was offering him. Nonetheless, after a few seconds, the owl plucked it with his beak. Then, he flew off out of the open window, heading back to the Burrow.

Harry looked down at the two envelopes and saw that one was addressed to him while the other was for Hermione.

"Hermione, one of these is for you," Harry said from the kitchen table where he was seated, "it's most likely from Ron." Afterwards, he inwardly supposed that his letter from was Ginny.

She took a seat across from him as Harry handed over her letter. Together, they opened their respected envelopes at the same time, as Harry took out the parchment that was inside and began to read:

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I am writing to let you know that Fred's funeral will take place tomorrow at the Burrow, starting at three o'clock in the afternoon. Also, since dad told us that Hermione was released from St. Mungo's earlier this morning with her injuries healed, I hope that you can make it. I know that you loved Fred like a brother and I'm sure you truly miss him as well, but Harry, I really need you there with me tomorrow. I feel really depressed over his death and all I wish to happen is for you to tell me that everything is going to be alright._

 _I talked a lot with my mum yesterday, after we left the hospital, and she told me that right now, your main priority is for Hermione to get better. And as hard as it is for me to accept that you need to be with her right now, I understand that she's your best friend and you're concerned over her well-being. I admit that I regret acting so coldly towards you yesterday at St. Mungo's and I wanted to apologize for it. I acted like a jealous little child, because I saw that you were only focused on Hermione. I promise you that I won't act like that again._

 _I know that Ron is also hoping for Hermione to come over tomorrow and I hope that she will be able to make it, too. I think that afterwards, it would be best if the four of us sat down and settled our differences in terms of Ron being in a relationship with Hermione, and you being in a relationship with me. Then, if Hermione is completely healed from her injuries, I'm sure Ron would want to have her stay at the Burrow so they can spend some time together. If she agrees to that, I would love to see Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow! It must be really special for you, Harry, and I want to be a part of it. Well that is all for now. I really am hoping you can make it tomorrow, Harry._

 _I love you and so much more,_

 _Ginny_

After Harry finished reading Ginny's letter, he stared at it in disbelief. Again, he thought that Ginny had managed to use Fred's death as a means to get what she wants, which was him. He reread the final paragraph, looking over her words about how she said that she would like for Hermione to stay with Ron at the Burrow, while she visited him in Godric's Hollow. Truthfully, though, Harry wasn't favorable toward the idea for Hermione to leave him. During their time together, along with the trip they took down to Australia, Harry had felt himself grow more and more attached to Hermione. It was if her presence calmed and soothed him, and quite frankly, he wasn't entirely sure if Ron would be able to comfort Hermione in her time of need in accordance with the death of her parents, as Ron wasn't there with them in Australia in which they found the horrid conditions her parents had been in and their deaths that occurred shortly after.

Harry looked up and saw that Hermione's own face had morphed into a mask of confusion, as she too seemed to be rereading her letter that she received from Ron. After she had finished, she looked over at Harry and their eyes locked into one another's.

"What does your letter say, Harry," Hermione asked, sighing loudly.

"Here, you can read it," Harry said, handing his letter to Hermione.

"Read mine, too," she said back, handing her own letter over to him.

He looked down at the parchment and read:

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I do hope you are doing well, my dear. Arthur informed us earlier today that you were released from St. Mungo's hospital, with increased vitals, on the road to recovery. I am sure that when you initially received this letter, that it would be from Ron, however, I regret to say that Ron has been feeling somewhat left out of your activities that you and Harry took together, namely when the two of you ventured off to Australia._

 _At this, I must first stop myself and express my deepest condolences on the passing of your parents, as Arthur wishes the same. I remember meeting them back in Diagon Alley during the summer before you, Ron, and Harry started your second year. They were absolutely wonderful people and I can see that you inherited a number of excellent traits from them that will be with you for the rest of your life._

 _I am unsure if Harry has told you already, but tomorrow, we will be holding a funeral for my Fred, and afterwards, there will be a dinner for those in attendance. I want to be clear, however, that we will be celebrating Fred's life, personality, and accomplishments. The Weasley family has shed a great many tears as I sometimes feel that we can grieve no more. But, I think that it would be best for you to come over; that is of course if you feel like you are able to do so with your injuries and all._

 _I also think that it would be best if you and Ron worked out your relationship and where you stand with each other in terms of how you feel for one another. I know that Ginny is writing to Harry for the same reasons, as there seems to be a misunderstanding between you four. I think it would be for the best if you stayed here, at the Burrow, where Ron and I could look after you while you heal, both physically and emotionally. Ginny, on the other hand, would love to visit Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow. I am sure she and Harry could reconnect with each other if they were left alone._

 _I do wish, dear, that you can make it tomorrow for the funeral. There are a great deal of people that are coming to pay their respects to my Fred. If you cannot make it, I hope that we can still meet to discuss some living situations in regards to you, Ron, Harry, and Ginny._

 _All my love,_

 _Molly_

After finishing reading Mrs. Weasley's letter to Hermione, anger spiked through Harry as he crumpled up the parchment in his hand.

Seeing this, Hermione set her hand over his, trying to get him to relax. However, Harry's anger was far from over as he stood up suddenly, toppling over his own chair, and rushed out of the kitchen, heading for the front door of the cottage. Ripping it open in a hard manner, he slammed it shut behind him as he stood outside on the small wooden, front porch of the home, breathing in the fresh air around him.

How could both Mrs. Weasley and Ginny be so forward in their letters, as to wish that Hermione stay at the Burrow while Ginny stayed with him in Godric's Hollow? Was it so important that Ron was in a relationship with Hermione and Harry, himself, was in a relationship with Ginny? Why did any of that matter, especially on the eve of the burial of one of their family members? On top of that, it seemed as if Mrs. Weasley and Ginny assumed that Hermione wanted to be with Ron and he wanted to be with Ginny.

Harry looked out at the sea of chest-high grass, swaying in tune with a small wind before him. He took deep breaths, willing to calm himself down after reading both letters from the Burrow.

Harry took a seat on the small porch, just as the front opened behind him, and then closed. A moment later, Hermione took a seat next to Harry in silence, as she stared out in front of her.

"I'm so sick of people trying to make my own decisions for me, especially when those decisions aren't even for them to make," Harry finally said. "Why do people still do that to me?"

"I think it's because they see you as someone who needs guidance," Hermione answered without looking at him.

Harry gave her a quizzical look as she further explained, "Harry, even though you had a huge hand in saving the wizarding community, you were also the one that suffered the most. In fact, you suffered longer than anyone else, really, ever since you were a baby. I think it's because of that, that other people feel the need to push you in what they think is the right direction."

"Hermione, you can't seriously think that what Ginny and Mrs. Weasley said was just some 'push.' It almost seemed like it was a demand," Harry countered.

"I know but Mrs. Weasley has always thought of you as her son, because of how close you were with Ron while at Hogwarts. You visited the Burrow many different times, and over that period, you grew close with the entire Weasley family. She's doing what she thinks is best not only for Ron and Ginny, but for you and me," Hermione replied tranquilly.

"But she can't possibly know what's best for you and me," Harry reiterated.

"She doesn't know, but she thinks she does, and really, who can blame her? Her family nearly fell apart with Percy acting superior towards everyone, while Ron was away with us for nearly a year, and Fred having just died. I think that Mrs. Weasley is used to being in control of things that happen with her and her family, but ever since Voldemort returned, things have turned around and have slipped out of her control. But now that Voldemort is gone for good, she feels better if she has a better grasp of things, namely with what happens with Ron and me, along with you and Ginny."

Harry looked over at Hermione to see that she continued to stare out in front of her, as if her mind was deep in thought.

After several silent moments, Hermione voiced, "At least Mrs. Weasley's letter started out nicely." She then looked over at Harry as she asked, "Do you think that Ron's mad at us because I didn't ask him to come with us to Australia?"

"Probably," Harry responded, "he seemed pretty angry with me back at St. Mungo's."

"What did he say to you," Hermione questioned.

Harry thought about telling her that Ron thought it was Harry's fault that Hermione had gotten hurt, but then again, Harry actually did feel responsible for what had happened, even though Hermione had told him that Harry wasn't accountable.

"He said some things, and I said some things back," Harry decided to answer. "After that, he went to visit you and that was pretty much it."

As Hermione nodded her head, she said, "I wonder if Ron knows about the arrangements Mrs. Weasley and Ginny proposed in those letters and what he thinks of it."

"I'd imagine he supports it to a certain degree, like having you with him," Harry said.

"And what about having Ginny stay with you here in Godric's Hollow?"

"Well, he did tell me that he wasn't bothered by our relationship, even though we aren't even together anymore, so I don't think he would be against the idea all that much, as long as he also got to visit." Harry sighed inwardly as he then said, "I'm actually thinking of not going tomorrow."

At this, Hermione looked at him with wide eyes as she inquired, "And why not?"

Now it was Harry's turn to looked at Hermione as if she had lost her mind as he said, "Hermione, did you already forget what Mrs. Weasley and Ginny said in their letters to us? They want to separate us."

"I know they do, but Harry, we can't run away from our problems. I would think that you of all people should know that. Besides, the main reason for us to go tomorrow is pay our respects to Fred. We don't have to make any decisions of who's living with whom tomorrow," Hermione said.

"Actually, I already made up my decision on that matter," Harry said bitterly.

"Look let's not think of this just now," Hermione offered, "we should go and eat our lunch instead."

Harry nodded his head in agreement as they both stood to their feet and walked back inside the cottage, making their way towards the kitchen.

Hermione waved her wand as an assortment of vegetables flew out of the brown, paper bag as a knife began to chop them up into smaller pieces.

As Hermione waved her wand at a nearby cauldron, Harry took both letters they received from Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, ripped them in half, and threw them away.

As a great and wonderful smell started to fill the kitchen, another thought occurred to Harry as he asked, "Hermione, isn't Potter's Cottage supposed to be invisible to Muggles?"

She turned to face him as she nodded her head, "Yeah, it's supposed to be."

"Then why was Aunt Petunia able to see it," Harry questioned.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in answer as she suggested, "I don't know, but I did read somewhere that when a witch or wizard takes ownership over an abandoned property that is rightfully his or her own, any magical enchantments that had been placed over it would be broken. That could be a reason as to why your aunt could see this house, and it also could be a reason why the memorial sign is gone, too, but I think it's something else."

"The memorial sign," Harry asked, as the cauldron next to Hermione billowed out puffs of steam.

"Remember when you and I visited Potter's Cottage on Christmas Eve? We saw a small memorial sign on the outside of the home in which many people wrote their names or some sort of message in everlasting ink?"

Harry then remembered what Hermione was talking about. He thought about how Hermione didn't like how people had carved their own names or initials onto the sign, while Harry wasn't at all perturbed by it. The memorial sign described the events of what had happened on that fateful Halloween night in Godric's Hollow.

Seeing the recognition dawn on Harry's face, Hermione continued, "That sign is gone. I don't exactly know what happened to it."

"It's just strange that she could see it though," Harry commented. "So do you think that other Muggles could see it, too?"

"It's certainly possible, but I don't see how they could. Imagine a couple that lived on the same street this house is on for a couple of years. Then, all of a sudden, this home suddenly appears. There would certainly be a whole host of questions to be asked about how this house unexpectedly came to be," Hermione said. "But you're right, it is strange how your aunt was able to see Potter's Cottage."

Hermione waved her wand as a pair of plates and bowls flew over to the kitchen table along with a spoon, fork, and knife. With another gesture of her wand, the black cauldron flew over, filling the two bowls up with soup that gave off an incredibly good aroma, while meat, potatoes, and vegetables flew onto the plates.

"You could write to Kingsley and ask him about it," Hermione offered, "and maybe he could explain some things to you."

She then took her seat across from Harry, as he looked up at her and said, "Thanks, Hermione; this looks delicious."

"I hope it is," she replied back, tucking a brown lock of her hair behind her ear, as she picked up her knife and fork.

As the pair ate away, Hermione asked in a small voice, "Harry, I don't remember this too well, but didn't you bring one of our attackers back with us when we returned from Australia?"

He nodded in silence, wondering where she was going with her line of questioning.

"Did you or anyone else ever figure out if our attackers were Death Eaters?"

"Mr. Weasley told me that they were. I brought back the woman that was impersonating your mum, and he told me that she had the Dark Mark on her arm," Harry said.

"And what about the man that was imitating my dad?"

Harry looked over at her as he sighed and said, "He's dead."

"Dead," Hermione repeated in question, pulling her eyebrows together. "But…how?"

"I hit him with a curse," Harry answered after a long moment of dead air. He decided that it would be best to not let Hermione know that he might have to attend a trial in Brisbane on the matter of the dead Death Eater.

Hermione nodded, saying no more on that subject, as she sensed that Harry didn't want to go into detail about how he had killed the Death Eater.

"The woman Death Eater was kept only a couple of rooms down from you at St. Mungo's," Harry said with venom seeping into his voice.

"Where is she now?"

"Hopefully Azkaban," Harry responded, "but I don't know for sure."

As Hermione continued to eat her food, Harry suddenly thought of something as he asked, "Say, Hermione, do you know who I saw while we were at St. Mungo's?"

"No," she responded, shaking her head.

"I saw Professor Lockhart," Harry replied, thinking back on the moment he laid eyes on their former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor as stepped out of the hospital lifts.

"Professor Lockhart," Hermione questioned, as Harry nodded his head. "Did you go and visit him in the permanent spell damage ward?"

"No, I was up on the fifth floor when I saw him. His healer, Healer Susan, I think her name was, told me that she likes to take him for short walks around the hospital," Harry explained.

"How is he doing," Hermione inquired.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Pretty much the same as the last time we saw him, really."

"And to think that it was Ron's wand that did the damage," Hermione voiced, shaking her head in incredulity.

"Actually, what's strange is that Lockhart said there was a bird of some sort that was flying around…," however, at this, Harry trailed off as a certain thought occurred to him.

"Harry," Hermione asked, looking over at him, while his bright, green eyes gazed at nothing in particular.

Abruptly standing to his feet, Harry quickly walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, as Hermione followed him.

He made his way over to the mantle that was positioned above the fireplace, looking hard at the picture of his parents dancing in the living room of Potter's Cottage. Harry remembered that he had found a letter or a journal entry of some sort under this very picture. There was something in that letter or journal entry that his mum wrote about that struck a chord deep within Harry that he had found peculiar. But where did he put it?

"Harry, what is it," Hermione asked, looking at him curiously.

"Remember the first time we came here, Hermione, that I found a letter or some type of journal my mum had wrote, here under this picture," Harry started, pointing at the moving image of his mum and dad dancing slowly with one another.

"Yeah," Hermione responded, unsure of where he was going with this.

"Something my mum wrote seems familiar. It's hard to explain unless I see what she wrote exactly, but I don't remember where I put it," Harry explained, racking his brain of an answer it would give him.

"You put it in the pocket of your jeans," Hermione said at once.

A wide smile broke out over Harry's face at Hermione's inconceivable capacity to remember such mundane things.

"I think the jeans you were wearing that day are in my beaded bag. I haven't had the chance to clean it out yet," Hermione continued. After she said this, Hermione took out her wand from her jeans pocket. Giving it a wave, she said, " _ACCIO BEADED BAG_!"

Instantly, her beaded bag soared down the staircase and into Hermione's open hand. With a determined look in her eye, she opened it, pointed it again, and said, " _ACCIO HARRY'S JEANS_!"

Three pairs of jeans soared out of the bag and onto one of the couches situated in the living room.

"You are brilliant, Hermione," Harry said, as he picked up the topmost jeans and searched its pockets.

Finding nothing in the first pair, he picked up the second. Hastily shoving his hand in the right-hand pocket, he felt the piece of parchment that bore his mum's handwriting.

He took it out and unfolded it, as Hermione looked on at his side. Harry's green eyes traveled down the parchment, trying to find what he was looking for.

Reading line after line, it was then that he had found it: in the second to last paragraph, Harry read over the words that his dad took his mum to a hidden restaurant in Godric's Hollow. Its entrance was what his mum described as some graffiti art, painted against a wall in a dim alleyway, of a beautiful woman and a raven, in which one of the bird's wings was covered in black feathers, while the other was covered in diamonds.

"Here, read this Hermione," Harry said, pointing to the second to last paragraph.

After she did so, she looked up at him and asked with questioning eyes, "What about it?"

"When I met Professor Lockhart back at the hospital, he was going on about how a raven was flying around in St. Mungo's. I didn't think much about it at the time, but when I went down to the fourth floor, which was the floor you were on, there were black feathers outside of the door the woman Death Eater was staying in and all over the ward."

"So you think that this place where your dad took your mum to in Godric's Hollow and the raven flying around in St. Mungo's are related," Hermione asked, sounding highly skeptical.

Harry nodded his head as he said, "I don't know for sure if they're related but it definitely is a possibility."

"I don't know, Harry," Hermione replied, looking back down at Lily's letter.

"Well, why else would a raven be flying around St. Mungo's," Harry asked, "on the fourth floor where the Death Eater was being treated?"

"It could very well just be a coincidence. People go to St. Mungo's with strange happenings every day, Harry. I'm sure this isn't the first time that a bird has flown around the hospital," Hermione countered.

"How much of a coincidence is it then that a raven, of all animals, would be painted on some entrance to a secret restaurant in Godric's Hollow, and that a raven was in the same ward as a Death Eater in St. Mungo's," Harry asked.

"But Harry, you're associating this raven with evil, as you said it was in the same ward as the Death Eater. If these two incidents are related, why would your parents go to a place like that," Hermione questioned.

Harry thought this over as he realized he didn't have an answer for her.

"Harry, let's just go back and finish our lunches," Hermione suggested, "and we can think more about this later."

Harry sighed but nodded in agreement, as he set the parchment down on the table, next to his blanket Aunt Petunia had returned to him, before following Hermione back into the kitchen. There, they finished their lunches, as Harry tried his best to convince Hermione that something was odd about the raven appearing both in Godric's Hollow and in St. Mungo's. Hermione, however, didn't seem to think too much on the two subject matters, as she remained highly doubtful that they were in any way affiliated with each other.

Later that night, as the pair changed into their pajamas to get ready for bed, Hermione suddenly called out loudly, "Harry James Potter!"

Confused, Harry rushed out his bedroom and into Hermione's right next door. "What," he asked defensively.

In answer, Hermione pointed towards her bed in which Harry saw what he had done before.

"Did you have a good laugh transfiguring my bed sheets into the colors of Slytherin," she asked, her hands on her hips.

A smirk broke out across Harry's face. "I honestly forgot that I did that before."

"Really…that's the best answer you can give me," she questioned, quirking an eyebrow upward.

Harry merely shrugged his shoulders in answer.

At this, Hermione shook her head from side to side in mock anger, as she said, "Goodnight, Harry."

Harry smiled and replied, "'Night, Hermione."

After Harry walked into his room, they both closed their doors, as Harry took off his glasses, set them on his bedside table, and settled onto his covers on this warm night.

He rested his hands behind his head as he thought about how strange it was to be sleeping on his own. Recently, he had slept next to Hermione for the past week, granted they were on separate mattresses, yet now they were in completely separate rooms. He didn't know if liked this new change, as he turned over onto his side and closed his eyes.

Harry suddenly found himself walking along the silent, nighttime streets of Godric's Hollow, with Hermione at his side. The pair was walking under a light snowfall, as they were both wrapped in warm winter coats, as Godric's Hollow seemed to be void of any sound at all. Harry lead Hermione towards the center part of the village, where he made his way between two, white-brick buildings.

In this dim alleyway, Harry saw the graffiti art of a beautiful woman who had been painted against one wall, while a raven stood on her shoulder, as the black bird seemed to eye Harry and Hermione suspiciously. Tapping his wand against the wall three times, he whispered, "Potter, party of two." The woman blinked over at the pair as the raven flew off of her shoulders and out of the picture. The woman then nodded and disappeared as Harry's heart rate accelerated as the white-brick wall smoothed into the surface of a large door. Harry reached down towards the knob when suddenly…

A loud piercing scream made Harry jump out of his slumber. Setting his hand over his thumping heart, Harry blinked several times, wondering where that scream had come from; it sounded so close, yet so far away.

After several moments of silence, Harry thought that maybe he had just dreamed of that loud scream, yet nothing, from what he could remember of his dream, would warrant such a reaction.

Then, the same piercing scream came again and this time, Harry knew exactly where it was coming from: Hermione.

Quickly grabbing his glasses and shoving them onto his face, he grabbed his wand and bolted out of his room, rapidly entering Hermione's, to see that she was thrashing violently about, tangled amongst her bed sheets.

"Hermione," Harry called out, running over to her, as she let out another scream, which slammed against Harry's eardrums like small shards of glass.

Setting down his wand on her bedside table, he tried to grab her arms to shake her awake yet one of her closed fists connected with the side of his mouth.

Ignoring the taste of his own blood, he noticed that a mixture of sweat and tears had congregated against her pillow.

"No, please, take me instead," Hermione cried out in despair, her voice nothing more than a high-pitched plea, "don't torture them anymore, please, please just let them go! They didn't do anything to anyone! You're hurting them! Mum, please don't cry! Dad, wake up! Don't leave me!"

"HERMIONE, WAKE UP!" Harry yelled with all of his might, straining his own voice, as he finally managed to take hold of her shoulders to shake her.

She stopped all of her movements, as her eyes slowly blinked open. Her warm, brown eyes, had altered into black pits of horror as she looked up at Harry, her face a sickly pale, as beads of sweat were now pouring down her neck, like a waterfall.

"Harry," she trembled quietly, as he maneuvered himself to sit on his knees atop her bed, cradling her head against his chest. "Harry, I'm so sorry," Hermione cried out, sobbing uncontrollably, as she clung onto his arms as if it was a raft in the middle of an open ocean of desolation and misery.

Harry's heart broke seeing Hermione in this state, clearly having dreamt of her parents.

"Hermione, it's okay, I'm here," Harry said in as much of a soothing manner as he could muster, "I'm here for you."

"I saw…them, Harry, my parents. I saw exactly how we found them in that shed, in those horrible conditions," she whispered, as a new set of tears streaked down her face. "All of those maggots-," however, Harry cut her off.

"Don't think of it," Harry told her sternly, looking directly into her eyes, as he hoped his fierce gaze would rid Hermione's mind of the images they had found her parents in. "Don't think of it for one second," he repeated.

"It's all I can see," she whispered, "I can't even remember what they look like anymore."

Harry kept her head against his chest, while his free hand started to rub her back, trying to calm her down. She continued to whimper against him, visibly shaken.

Harry stopped rubbing her back, as he reached behind him to grab his wand. Flicking it in the air, a paper cup suddenly appeared. " _AGUAMENTI_ ," he said, as the paper cup instantly filled with water.

"Here, drink this," Harry said, as Hermione detached herself away from his chest, and grabbed the paper cup he was offering her.

"Thanks," she whispered, downing its contents, and wiping away at her eyes, getting rid of the new tears that had threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry I woke you up over some silly dream that I had," Hermione said softly, unable to look into Harry's eyes.

However, he tucked a finger under her chin and tenderly made her look at him directly.

"Don't you remember all of my dreams and nightmares that I had had while at Hogwarts and when were searching for horcruxes? I know how you feel."

"It's just that I am so afraid of failing, which is why I worked hard while were were at Hogwarts. I told myself that I would be the best at whatever I put my mind to. But with my parents, I failed them, Harry, and my failure led them to their deaths," she said quietly.

"No, Hermione, you're wrong. You didn't fail them, you did what you thought was best for them," Harry replied. "You gave them a chance to get away from Voldemort and the war that was going on here."

She sniffled as she shook her head from side to side at him as she said, "Then why do I feel so responsible for their deaths?" She shook her head again, saying, "You don't have to answer that."

She scooted away from him as she laid her head back down upon her pillow. Harry sighed inwardly, feeling terrible that he was unable to comfort her in her time of need, as he waved his wand, making another mattress suddenly appear next to Hermione's bed. With another gesture, bed sheets appeared along with two pillows.

Harry, removing his glasses and setting them on Hermione's bedside table along with his wand, laid himself down upon his newly conjured mattress. His mind kept floating over to Hermione though, as he hoped that night terrors would not come for her again.

* * *

Initially, I had intended for this chapter to be of Fred's funeral, but I then realized that that adding that in would have made this chapter quite long. Therefore, the funeral will take place in Chapter 10, along with a talk between Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley. Chapter 10 will be posted Saturday night. Thanks for reading.


	10. Water on Stone

Chapter 10: Water on Stone

As sunlight poured into Hermione's bedroom, Harry's eyes slowly opened, while his mind wondered why he wasn't in his own bed. Then, Hermione's nightmare quickly flashed through his head. Giving a wide yawn, Harry sat up on the mattress he conjured late last night, and looked over only to find Hermione's bed empty.

Stretching his arms out in front of him and yawning again, Harry stood to his feet, shoving his round glasses back on his face, as he exited Hermione's bedroom only to see that the second-floor landing was deserted.

He then traveled down the stairs and looked into the living room, dining room, and kitchen only to then realize that Harry himself was the only occupant in Potter's Cottage. Gulping loudly, he went to the front door and opened it to a gusty wind and a bright sunshine that traveled within the small home.

Seeing the front porch vacant as well, Harry looked down the street and finally saw who he'd been looking for: Hermione was walking down the wide lane of Godric's Hollow with a brown, paper bag tucked against her arm, the top of her head barely visible over the soaring grass in the front lawn of Potter's Cottage.

As she entered into the sea of high grass, she looked up and saw Harry looking curiously over at her from the front deck.

She gave him a small smile as she said, "Good morning, Harry."

"'Moring," he said back, before asking curiously, "where did you go?"

"Oh, I went for a quick walk to the market," she answered.

"And how are you feeling today," he asked.

Hermione shrugged in answer as she passed by Harry and entered back into the home. Harry shut the door behind her and followed her into the kitchen, where she set down the brown, paper bag onto one of the counters.

"Hermione," Harry said softly, making her turn around to look at him as he folded his arms over his chest, "are we just going to forget that last night ever happened?"

She shook her head back and forth as she replied, "I don't really want to talk about it."

As she turned back around, busying herself with emptying the bag of its contents, Harry sighed as he walked over to her and rested his right hand on her shoulder.

She stopped suddenly as he said in a low voice, "I want to help you, Hermione, as best as I can."

"I don't really think that anybody can help me…it's just something that I need to deal with on my own," she retorted without turning around.

Harry removed his hand off of her shoulder as he replied, "Why do you feel like you have to do this on your own?"

At his question, she turned around to face him with sad eyes, as she leaned back against the counter and said calmly, "It's like I told you before, Harry: my biggest fear is of failure and I failed my own parents. That's why they aren't here with me anymore. Nothing is ever going to change that."

"Hermione, you can't keep blaming yourself for what happened to your mum and dad. Trust me, I know the feeling. I felt responsible for so many others that died before and during the war. It's not a good thing to think about."

"I know but I can't help but blame myself. At night, it's all that I ever think about…it's all I can ever think about, actually," Hermione stated, casting her eyes down towards the kitchen floor, as if she was embarrassed with herself.

Harry stepped closer to Hermione as he said, "Things will get better, I promise you."

Hermione laughed once, though it was not a comedic laugh, instead, it was a laugh of self-anguish.

"I don't see how things could get any worse," she replied, turning back around to resume her task of emptying the brown, paper bag.

Deciding it was best to have a change of topic, Harry then asked, "Did you get what you needed at the market?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, "I picked up a few things there for later today."

"Later today?"

Hermione turned around and gave him an exasperated look. "Harry, don't you remember, today is Fred's funeral?"

"Well, I know, but what did you have to get at the market that you're going to bring to the Burrow," Harry asked, his right eyebrow raised in question.

"I'm going to bake Battenberg cake. My dad taught me how to bake it before," Hermione answered, her voice choking up when she said the word 'dad.' "I thought it would be nice to bring something with us is all. I don't think the Weasleys have ever tried Battenberg cake, being that it is a Muggle dessert."

"They probably haven't," Harry regaled. "If you want, we could always bring along Hagrid's rock cakes with us as well. We haven't touched them ever since he gave them to us," Harry smirked.

Hermione looked over her shoulder at him, rolling her eyes. "Yes, I wonder why that is?"

As Harry laughed, he then asked, "Are you going to start baking now?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about it. Why?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, I was thinking that I could make us some breakfast."

"That sounds good," Hermione replied, "I put everything that we brought yesterday in the cabinets and fridge."

Harry nodded his head in silence as he got to work, while Hermione started her own cooking as well.

The two danced around each other in the kitchen as if cooking with each other was a natural act Harry and Hermione participated in every day. Even though they worked in silence, Harry felt extremely comfortable. He didn't quite understand what made him feel so at ease, but he certainly didn't mind it at all.

As breakfast was nearly ready, Harry looked over at Hermione to see her eyes scrutinizing the work she had been performing for the past half hour. Patches of flour dotted her cheeks as a single strand of her brown hair fell down her face, obscuring her line of vision, in which she blew it out of the way. Her breathing was even as she carefully perfected her batter of her Battenberg cake.

As aromatic smells started to float around the kitchen, surrounding the young pair, Harry waved his wand over at a set of nearby cabinets, making two plates and two glasses fly over to the kitchen table. He then flicked his wand at a drawer, sending two sets of knives and forks to follow suit.

"Breakfast is almost ready, Hermione," Harry said, carrying the frying pan over to the table.

"Okay, I just need to put these pans into the oven," she said.

Harry placed two eggy breads on Hermione's plate and two on his own, before he filled both of their glasses with juice.

He sat down and watched as Hermione placed two pans of batter into the oven, as she then walked over and took her seat opposite from Harry.

"Oh, eggy bread! I haven't had this in ages," she exclaimed excitedly, "thanks for making this, Harry."

"No problem," he replied, after he swallowed and chewed a piece of his breakfast, "I used to make this all the time for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley."

"How do you think your aunt is," Hermione asked, as he looked over at him, "she seemed so sad when she visited us yesterday."

"I dunno, but I hope she's feeling better. I never would have thought that she would ever come here, to visit the home of my mum. The whole time I lived with them, she never spoke of her, and the few times she did, she didn't have anything nice to say."

"Well, she did say that she regrets not having a relationship with your mum," Hermione pointed out, "and the only person she could really tell that to was you."

"I just keep thinking about how my life would have been different with the Dursleys if Aunt Petunia and my mum had a good relationship," Harry wondered aloud. After a thoughtful moment, he said, "But I guess I'll never know, really."

"I think we can both be certain that it would've been much better than what is was," Hermione said.

After several soundless yet peaceful moments, Harry said, "Hermione, last night I dreamed of the restaurant my dad took my mum to in Godric's Hollow."

"You mean the one with the woman and the raven?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, nodding his head slightly.

"What did you do in your dream," she questioned.

"Well, I wasn't exactly alone," Harry relayed, as Hermione looked curiously over at him, "you were with me, too."

"Me," she inquired, to which Harry nodded his head in answer. "Okay, so then what did we do?"

"All we did was we walked over to the restaurant and I tapped the painting of the woman and the raven three times with my wand. A door suddenly appeared but then, I woke up."

"Because of me," Hermione answered. Harry, however, decided not to respond.

"It's kind of like back in fifth year when I always dreamed about the door in the Department of Mysteries," Harry deliberated.

"We could go there," Hermione offered, shrugging her shoulders haphazardly, "and we may possibly see if there's anything significant about it. The restaurant, I mean," she finished, seeing Harry's puzzled look.

"It could be dangerous," Harry replied.

At this, Hermione gave him a pointed look as she said, "Harry, did you forget about everything that we did together?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that Healer Jones told you to relax until you got better."

"Well, I feel fine," Hermione said back stubbornly, "and honestly, Healer Jones didn't confine me to lay around in bed all day."

Not comfortable with putting Hermione in any further danger, Harry said, "We'll see."

Just then, the oven in the kitchen rang loudly about, making both Harry and Hermione jump from their own seats.

"Oh, my cake is ready," Hermione said, getting up from her chair. Opening the oven door, huge puffs of heat then blasted throughout the kitchen, while Hermione grabbed her wand, and waved it in a forwarding motion, making the cake pans fly out of the oven and onto the counter.

She walked back over to the table and sat down, smiling happily.

"I guess they turned out alright, then," Harry asked, nodding over to the two cooking pans.

"Oh, yes, they did. They just need to cool down a bit," she replied.

"I'm looking forward to tasting it," Harry said, breathing deeply, as sweet-smelling aromas filled his nostrils.

"Me too. I haven't had Battenberg cake in such a long time."

A few minutes later, with their respective eggy breads devoured, Harry and Hermione traveled off to different lavatories of the cottage to get ready for their day ahead.

Afterwards, Harry met Hermione back in the kitchen where he told her, "Hermione, I'm going to go out and cut the grass."

She turned away from her cake and said with a slight frown, "I really like the grass."

"I know," Harry replied, "but it's soon going to be taller than the house. I've got to shorten it."

"Are you going to use magic," Hermione asked.

"I didn't think of using anything else," he said back, "why?"

"You just have to be careful," she replied. "If your aunt could spot this home, then other Muggles can see it, too. We still have to uphold the Statue of Secrecy."

"Well there aren't many homes around us," Harry told her.

"I know, but please just be cautious."

He nodded over at her before he exited the kitchen, made his way through the living room, and walked out the front door, shutting it softly behind him.

Harry looked up at the sky and noticed that several clouds had started to make an appearance. He walked through the tall grass and made his way past the wooden gate. Peering to his left and right, he saw that the lane was quite empty. Other than a tall man who was walking away from Potter's Cottage off in the distance, Harry didn't see another living soul about.

Walking back inside the gate, Harry, checking over his shoulder one final time, waved his wand in a slashing manner and said, " _DIFFINDO_." Instantly, a bright green light flashed about, in which a whole area of the towering grass had been severed.

Harry repeated this action until the entire front lawn had been dwindled down to short spades of grass.

Nodding his head once to appreciate his handy lawn work, Harry entered back into the home and called out, "Hermione!"

She came around from the kitchen and asked in a voice of panic, "What is it? Did somebody see you?"

"No, not at all. I wanted to ask you how it looks," Harry said, walked out the front door with Hermione following close behind.

She sighed audibly as Harry looked over at her with a puzzled expression moving across his face.

"You don't think it looks good?"

"No, it looks fine, but the tall grass added a sense of uniqueness to the home," Hermione replied, "like the ivory that's growing under the front window over there." She pointed a finger over to her right where a green vine seemed to be crawling up the side of Potter's Cottage.

"But it looks fine," she said in finality before entering back into the home.

Smiling to himself, Harry followed as he asked her retreating back, "Did you finish the cake yet?"

"It's almost done," Hermione called back, as she walked into the kitchen, "it'll be just a few more minutes."

Harry then made his way up the stairs. He first entered Hermione's room where he flicked his wand, making his mattress disappear. Then, he went into his bedroom. He gestured his wand over to his trunk, in which the trunk opened and his clothes filed out before piling into his chest of drawers.

He then strolled out of his bedroom. He intended to walk back down the stairs to join Hermione in the kitchen when he stopped still in his tracks, for his bright, green eyes wandered over to the closed door of his parent's room.

Swallowing, he slowly crept closer and closer to the room he held sacred deep within the levels of his heart.

He carefully turned the silver knob of the door and pushed it open to a chorus of a loud creaking sound. Harry breathed deeply as he took in his parents' room: scarlet and white bed sheets were wrapped around a large mattress, while four fluffy pillows were situated near the headboard. He saw that sunlight was pouring in through two separate windows while he walked passed a full-length mirror and over to a rather bulky dresser where a collection of framed pictures he had viewed before with Hermione stood upon.

Harry picked up a picture of his dad and mum sitting across from each other down in the home's kitchen at the table he and Hermione had occupied many different times thus far. They seemed not to have noticed that their picture was being taken for they were staring off into each other's eyes, unmoving. Harry thought to himself that this could have easily passed for a regular Muggle picture, if it wasn't for his mum and dad blinking every couple of seconds. He saw that his dad's hands covered his mum's with relaxed expressions on their faces.

A hushed movement was heard behind him but Harry didn't turn around for he knew there was only one other occupant in Potter's Cottage with him at the moment.

After a quiet second, Hermione softly said at Harry's side, "You really do look like him, you know? You have the same set of glasses, and the same messy hair. The only thing that's different between you and your dad in terms of outward appearances is that you have your scar while he doesn't, and of course your eyes as well."

Harry looked from the picture and down at Hermione, who was smiling warmly at the photograph in his hands.

"From what Sirius and Lupin have told me, you apparently take after my mum somewhat. You're a Muggle-born witch who is the brightest of her age," Harry said quietly to her.

"I don't know if I'm the brightest of my age but-," however Harry cut her off.

"Now you're just being modest."

Hermione laughed as Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his side. She, in turn, wrapped her own arm around him as well.

"They look so young but so in love with each other," Hermione mused.

"They couldn't have been much older than we are now," Harry responded. "I think they married shortly after they finished Hogwarts."

"Times were so different then," Hermione said. "They were in the middle of the first war."

"Actually, by this time, I think the first war was nearly over."

"You mean that this picture was taken shortly before they…," Hermione trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence she started.

However, Harry nodded his head in answer. "I'm not entirely sure but I think so."

Harry set the picture back in its place before picking up another one of his parents in which they both seemed as if they were in a hospital, with Harry having just been born, swathed in a light blue blanket, cuddled into his mother's loving arms. She had tears in her eyes, while James looked down at Harry in awe and wonder.

Baby Harry appeared to be sleeping, as his eyes were closed, while both of his parents continued to coo over him. Harry smiled down at the picture, as Hermione rested her head against his shoulder.

He set the picture down before looking down at Hermione.

"You know, I'm glad you here with me, Hermione," Harry said.

She peered up at him as she replied with a smile, "I'm glad I'm here, too."

As they continued to gaze into each other's eyes, Harry suddenly felt as if a magnetic pull had enclosed around the pair. He noticed that Hermione's face seemed to grow larger and larger before he realized that he was leaning his head lower and lower towards her. He felt his heart rate quicken in anticipation while he closed his eyes. Harry's head started to buzz as he and Hermione were just inches away from each other. He moved his free hand down to touch her side affectionately when…

 _PECK…PECK…PECK_. Harry and Hermione jumped apart in alarm as they looked around only for Harry see that Pigwidgeon had made his return to Potter's Cottage. The tiny owl was flapping his wings excitedly, while his beak pecked at one of the bedroom's windows, as Harry and Hermione noted the owl clasped a letter between his sharp talons.

Harry looked over at Hermione to see that she had turned a deep shade of crimson as he guessed he didn't fare any better. However, as Hermione flicked her wand for the window to open to let the animated owl in, Harry couldn't help but feel annoyed with Pigwidgeon and his sender. However, while his annoyance mounted, so did his own confusion. This was the second time in which he felt such a strong urge to kiss Hermione.

Ever since his first year, Harry never considered Hermione to be anything more than his best friend. As they moved from one year and onto the next, his feelings for her had never wavered. Of course, at times they argued and disagreed with one another, but at the end of the day, they always remained close friends.

However, many people, including Cho Chang, Victor Krum, Ron, and even Dumbledore had mistakenly regarded their closeness as the pair harboring romantic feelings for one another. Harry, however, never entertained the idea as he felt that at certain times, Hermione was nothing more than a sister to him.

Yet all of that changed when he, Ron, and Hermione went on their horcrux hunt together, and Ron had abandoned them in the thick of it. He couldn't explain it, but there were several moments where Harry felt strongly for Hermione rather intimately. He never expressed his newfound feelings, but they had grown stronger and stronger over the course of the time they spent being around each other for so long. Those feelings evaporated when he saw Hermione kiss Ron. However, being around Hermione again for the past week, he felt those intimate feelings start to resurface once more.

"It's from Ron," Hermione stated, scattering Harry's wayward thoughts.

"Um, what," Harry asked, as he hadn't been paying attention.

"The letter is from Ron," Hermione repeated, handing over a piece of parchment in which Harry took into his hands and read:

 _Hermione,_

 _I know that mum wrote to you yesterday, but I wanted to say that I hope that you are able to make it to Fred's funeral today. It's going to start at three at the Burrow. I visited you while you were at St. Mungo's but you hadn't woken up before I left. I really want to talk to you, and Harry, too. Ginny's been a right mess without him, while mum keeps telling me to write to you._

 _I didn't before because I felt that you chose Harry over me when the two of you went to Australia together. I didn't really know what to think when I heard about that. But Ginny told me that you wanted to go alone, but Harry insisted that he come along. I can understand that in a way. But, please try to make it today. I miss you._

 _Ron_

Harry looked up from Ron's letter at Hermione.

"Well, I guess it's somewhat better than what Mrs. Weasley and Ginny said in theirs," Harry said.

"I can't say it's much better," Hermione replied with mild bitterness in her voice. "I don't know, the more and more I think about what the Weasleys had wrote to us, the more and more I'm inclined not to go today."

"Really," Harry piped in.

"Yes, but that would be disrespectful to Fred," she responded, taking the letter back from Harry. "Anyway, I actually came up here to tell you that I finished my cake if you want to take a look at it. But you're going to have to wait until later to taste it."

"Sure," Harry answered back, as Hermione crumpled up Ron's letter in her hand and exited the room.

Harry made to follow but before he did so, he turned around and gave his parents' room one sweeping glance. Smiling to himself, he shut the door and made his way down the staircase and into the kitchen.

There, Hermione showed off her finished Battenberg cake, which Harry thought looked absolutely delicious. After a quick lunch, Harry and Hermione started to get ready for the funeral.

Harry dug through his drawers, trying to find something suitable and appropriate for him to wear to a funeral. Closing one drawer and opening another, he became slightly agitated when he couldn't locate the appropriate attire.

A knock was heard upon his closed door as Harry called out, "Yeah?"

Hermione entered as Harry saw that she was wearing a black dress that stopped just above her knees that hugged her body. Her soft, brown hair fell in light curls down her back.

"You changed your hair," Harry pointed out.

"I thought this was a rare occasion for me to use Sleekeazy's Hair Potion," she replied, "but why aren't you dressed yet?"

"I can't find anything to where," Harry said back to her.

"What you're wearing is fine," she responded.

Harry looked down at his maroon shirt and jeans. He then directed his gaze back over at her with an inquisitive look splashed across his face.

"Are you sure?"

"Harry," Hermione started, rolling her eyes, "you can transfigure your clothes, can't you?"

After her words dawned upon him, Harry stopped and said, "Well, I never transfigured clothes on my own before."

"I'll help you, then," Hermione said, stepping forward, with her wand at the ready. She studied him for a brief moment before she started waving her wand to and fro silently, her eyes focused and concentrated.

"There," Hermione relayed over at Harry.

Harry again looked down at himself to see that Hermione had transformed his clothes into a light gray buttoned-down shirt, coupled with a dark grey tie, under a black jacket paired with black pants, socks, and shoes.

"I couldn't do anything with your hair, though," Hermione said, as she scrutinized it, "I could go and get what I have left of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion."

"No, that's alright," Harry said before she could go, "thanks."

"No problem."

"So are you ready to go, then," Harry asked.

"No, my cake is down in the kitchen," Hermione replied.

"Okay, let's apparate from there then," Harry suggested, as Hermione nodded, and the pair journeyed down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Hermione picked up the plate bearing her Battenberg cake as she looked over at Harry and said, "Let's try to just focus on Fred's funeral when we get there. Afterwards, if Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, or Ron asks if I want to go to the Burrow and if Ginny can come and stay with you here, we'll tell them how we feel, alright? I mean, that is of course if you don't want me to go or have Ginny stay with you."

"I want you to stay with me, Hermione. I don't want anything to change from how it is right now," Harry said.

Hermione gave him a small smile as she uttered, "Me too, Harry, but who knows how the Weasleys will react. They're running high on their own emotions."

Hermione's smile then disappeared as she looked up at Harry, confirming with her eyes that she was ready to go.

In response, Harry enfolded Hermione against his chest, with the plate bearing the Battenberg cake between them, as he apparated them away from Godric's Hollow and to the Burrow.

Just as they arrived, they heard their names being called out. Turning their heads to their sides, the pair saw Mrs. Weasley rumbling forward, tears leaking out of her eyes.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so glad you could make it," she cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a hug.

After she was finished with him, she turned her head and said, "And, Hermione! How are you feeling dear?"

"I'm doing better," Hermione replied, fixating Mrs. Weasley with a genuine smile. "I also made this for you." Harry was surprised at how Hermione was behaving around Mrs. Weasley, considering that not even two hours ago, she considered of not even coming to the Burrow, due to the insistence of Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny of separating her and Harry.

As she handed Mrs. Weasley the dessert she had made, Mrs. Weasley stared it at curiously before looking back up at Hermione and asking, "What is it?"

"Oh, its Battenberg cake," Hermione replied simply, "it's a Muggle dessert that's popular in England."

Mrs. Weasley smiled over at her and kindly said, "Thank you, my dear, how thoughtful of you to do this."

"It was no problem," Hermione responded.

Before any further pleasantries could be made, a voice called out, "Hey, Harry!"

Harry turned around to see his old Hogwarts Quidditch captain, Oliver Wood, striding towards him, dressed in a simple, black suit, with his brown hair as short as ever.

"Hey Oliver, I didn't think you would be here today," Harry replied, smiling at him.

Oliver shrugged his burly shoulders as he replied in his thick Scottish accent, "Well, I was here for the battle at Hogwarts, and I thought it would be best to come back here to say 'good-bye' to Fred."

Harry nodded his head in concurrence as he asked, "So how is Puddlemere United? I remember you telling me that you joined their reserve team back at the World Cup."

"Harry, I have to tell you, it's been amazing playing for them! If you want, I could probably get you a spot on the team. Our seeker is leaving next season to join the Falmouth Falcons, so if you want to play, you have to let me know as soon as you can."

"Thanks, Oliver, but I don't think I'll be joining. I'm actually interested in becoming an auror," Harry replied.

"Well that's a very respectable job, Harry, but if you were to ask me, I think that you would make a far better seeker than an auror," Oliver responded truthfully. "Say, Harry, who did you bring with you," Oliver asked, nodding over to someone standing behind him.

Harry turned around and spotted Hermione conversing with Mr. Weasley. Harry smiled as he turned back around and told Oliver, "That's Hermione. She was in my year at Hogwarts."

For a long second, Oliver seemed deep in thought. Then, all of a sudden, Oliver commented, "Right, I remember her now."

"Er, sorry," Harry asked, confused, as he suspected that Oliver and Hermione never spoke one word to each other the entire time they were at Hogwarts together.

"She cleared off your glasses back in seventh-year so they would repel water when we faced the Hufflepuffs," Oliver declared.

"You remember that," Harry inquired.

"Of course I do, Harry," Oliver stated off-handedly, "I remember all of my Quidditch matches."

Harry inwardly thought that Oliver would no doubt have remembered the exact score of each of his Quidditch matches he played in at Hogwarts as well.

As former Gryffindor Quidditch players Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet all came over, Harry caught up with them for a short period of time, before turning around and walking over to Hermione.

However, before he could reach his destination, Ginny suddenly blocked his path.

"Ginny," Harry said in a stiff tone.

"Harry," she breathed out, before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug.

Harry thought that her hug lasted a bit longer than necessary but then the thought entered his head that Ginny was probably hurting over Fred's passing and that they would be burying him today.

She slowly let go and her tear-soaked eyes locked in on his bright, green ones.

"Thanks for coming, Harry," she said in a soft voice, "it means a lot."

Harry nodded once as he replied, "How are you doing?"

"As good as I can manage. I'm trying to be strong for mum as she's a right mess and all," she responded, shrugging her shoulders. "Don't forget, we still need to talk later."

Harry decided not to respond to her last comment, finding it inappropriate for her to try and entice him to distance himself from Hermione at her brother's funeral.

"Did Hermione come," Ginny asked, still staring up at Harry.

"Yeah, she's talking to your dad," Harry answered.

"That's good," Ginny nodded, "Ron really wanted to see her today. You got all of our letters, right?"

"We did," Harry replied shortly, deciding not to inform her that he and Hermione discarded the three letters they received from the Burrow.

"I must say, Harry, that I'm quite excited," Ginny said suddenly.

Harry found this odd, as he gave her a strange look and asked, "You're excited for Fred's funeral?"

"What? Oh, you thought…no, no, no, I wasn't talking about that," she replied, laughing once.

"What were you talking about," Harry questioned hesitantly.

"About going back with you to Godric's Hollow tonight! I think it will be better for me to get away from the Burrow for a bit…everyone here has been in such a miserable mood for the past couple of days," Ginny told Harry in a low voice.

"I can't imagine why," Harry whispered to himself.

"What did you say," Ginny asked.

Before Harry could respond, Mr. Weasley suddenly announced loudly, "If everyone could please follow Molly and I as we would like to begin!"

Ginny instantly grabbed Harry's hand and tugged him along with her, as Harry thought she was doing her best to keep him separated from Hermione.

However, Harry was curious as to where Hermione was as he started looking around for her.

"Harry, what are you doing," Ginny questioned, looking up at him as jealousy spread over her features. "Hermione is back there with Ron," Ginny relayed, jerking her head over to where Ron and Hermione were walking together.

The two seemed to be talking with one another in quiet voices as Harry frowned over at them but continued to follow the rest of the guests in attendance.

The green grass crunched underneath his feet, as the sky started to turn into a purple sea of wonder. Lingering clouds hovered above, as the sun began to slowly descend over the faraway horizon. As a warm breeze blew over the somber procession, Harry saw that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were leading them over to a large tree that was yards away from the Burrow.

The tree, however, seemed to emit a beautiful glow, as Harry noticed that a light had been ignited inside small, white orbs which had then been scattered among the maze of branches and leaves the tree housed.

At the base of this brightly-lit tree, a single headstone rested all alone, as the final rays of the sinking sun shined over it.

Everyone in attendance formed a semi-circle around the tombstone as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley walked up to it before falling down onto their knees in front of it. Harry saw that Mrs. Weasley's head was leaning into her husband's shoulder, as her cries pierced the still, evening air that hung over the Burrow.

Despite the feelings of deception Harry felt towards Mrs. Weasley with her letter she had sent to Hermione, seeing Mrs. Weasley in a state of total despair haunted him. Her shoulders were slumped forward, while her bright, red hair looked frazzled.

As Mr. and Mrs. Weasley started to say their final farewells to their son, Harry looked around and saw that Fleur had tears streaming down her face while Bill had his arm wrapped around her waist; Charlie was gazing over at his parents, looking distraught; Oliver, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia all had their eyes cast downwards in sorrow; Percy had a lone tear streaking down his face; Ron seemed to be blinking back his own tears, while Ginny wrapped both of her arms around Harry's waist.

Hermione, however, wasn't crying nor did she look sad; in fact, to Harry, it looked like her mind was far off, thinking over a distant memory that had crept into her mind like a shadow in the night.

As Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood to their feet, George stepped forward next, carrying, what Harry presumed, was Fred's old broomstick. He gently laid it against the headstone and smiled down at it without uttering a single word, just as the final rays of the sun sank behind the rolling, green hills, casting half of the sky into darkness, while the other half dazzled in its violet brilliance.

George stepped away as Bill and Fleur walked over to the tombstone. Fleur took out her wand and conjured a bouquet of white calla lilies and laid it at the base of the headstone. Charlie came up next, as he seemed to whisper several passing words to his younger brother, before standing to his feet, allowing Percy to come forward next.

Harry watched uncomfortably as Percy's shoulders shook with his sobs, as he couldn't formulate any parting words to say to Fred. Instead, as tears rolled down his cheeks, he placed his right hand onto Fred's headstone and wept. After a few moments, Percy sniffled loudly, wiped the tears out of his eyes, and stood to his feet.

Ron then stepped up, pulling Hermione with him. Harry watched as they both knelt down onto their knees. Like Fleur, Hermione pulled out her wand and conjured two bouquets of red and white tulips. She handed one to Ron before they both placed their flowers next to Fleur's. Hermione waved her wand again as a red ribbon draped itself over the tombstone; Harry noticed that the word 'Beloved' was etched into the ribbon in white lettering.

After the two stood to their feet and walked back to their spot within the semicircle, Ginny grasped Harry's hand and together, they walked up to Fred's headstone, where Harry read:

Fred Weasley  
1 April 1978 – 2 May 1998  
Cherished son, brother, and prankster who is loved until the end

Like Mrs. Weasley, Ginny rested her head against Harry's shoulder as her tears started to fall. Harry, in turn, felt as if he had a whole in his heart, as the true meaning of Fred's death finally swept through him. All of the times Fred had made him laugh and all of the times he and Fred had played Quidditch together, whether it was back at Hogwarts, or on the grounds of the Burrow, replayed through Harry's mind like an unstoppable slideshow. Harry remembered the time Fred and George gave him the Marauder's Map, and he laughed inwardly thinking back on the time where the twins had bewitched snowballs to launch themselves to hit Professor Quirrell in the back of his head.

After another quiet moment, Harry and Ginny stood to their feet, while Oliver, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia took their turns to pay their final respects to Fred.

When they had finished, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stepped back in front of the semi-circle, just as the purple sky offered its surrender to the darkness. As the stars up above started to make their appearance known, Mr. Weasley called forward his children.

Harry watched as the remaining Weasleys all took out their wands and touched the tips of their wands together. When they did so, a bolt of a bright, white light, like lightning, shot off into the black sky, where it soon disappeared. Mrs. Weasley then turned towards the tree where Fred had been buried next to, and waved her wand. As she did so, the hundreds of the brightly, lit orbs make their way out of the tree, as they floated within the nighttime expanse.

Without another word, Mr. Weasley took his wife's hand in his and walked away from the burial site and back towards the Burrow. Soon after, everyone else followed in silence. They walked behind the towering house where a large, white canopy had been erected, as a long table was set up underneath it, as strings bearing white and yellow lights hung from the ceiling.

"Everyone, please take a seat," Mrs. Weasley called out, her voice shaking, "and I'll go get the food."

"Do you need any help, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione asked.

Mrs. Weasley shot her a small grin before replying, "No, my dear, I'm fine. You just take your seat next to Ron over there," before she made her way into the Burrow.

Ginny dragged Harry away from Ron and Hermione as far as she could manage. Harry looked over at Hermione who gave him a comforting smile. He tried to smile back but being so far from Hermione kept it at bay.

Moments later, Mrs. Weasley came back out of the Burrow, with numerous plates of food floating behind her. As she came back under the canopy, she gave a final flick of her wand as the food set itself down before everyone, along with glasses filled with brandy.

However, before anyone could reach and grab at the food Mrs. Weasley had prepared, Mr. Weasley stood to his feet with a glass of brandy in his hand, and cleared his throat.

Everyone seated looked up at him as he started, "Before we begin, I would like to thank you all for coming here today. Fred meant a lot to Molly and I, and he also meant a lot to his brothers and sister. Even though he is not here with us any longer physically, he will always be a part of our hearts. We will always remember him with our laughter and our intelligence as he expressed both of those traits to his family and friends in his time with us. Even though it is unimaginable to bury him, Fred would not have wanted us to wallow in his death. No, he would want all of us to continue on living in his memory. His legacy stretches to the farthest depths of who we all are as human beings and I know that we will all uphold his brilliance of who he was as a student, an inventor, a prankster, but more importantly, of who he continues to be as a brother and as a son. Remember Fred not for how he passed on, but instead for how he lived. In honor of my loving son, Fred."

Mr. Weasley raised his glass as everyone followed suit and said, "To Fred."

They all sipped their brandy, before Mrs. Weasley stood to her feet and said, "Please, help yourselves."

Dinner was a luscious affair as everyone around the table shared their favorite memories of Fred Weasley. George revealed that his favorite memory of his late, twin brother had been the time when Ron had accidentally broken Fred's toy broomstick, and in return, Fred had transformed Ron's teddy pair into a giant spider, sparking Ron's arachnophobia.

Ron, on the other hand, said this his favorite memory of Fred was when he and George tried to coerce Ron to make an Unbreakable Vow with them. However, before the vow could be made, their dad walked in on them and was furious. Ron laughed as he said that Fred told him his left buttock had never been the same since that day.

It was then that Harry noticed that Ginny had entwined her leg within his. He looked over at her, clearly annoyed, but decided not to say anything in order not to interrupt Oliver's tale of Fred's bravery on the Quidditch pitch.

As Harry looked over at her, Ginny smiled at him and leaned her head towards his, rubbing her nose against his cheek in affection. Harry wanted to pull away from her but he noticed that Mrs. Weasley's gaze fell upon the pair at this precise moment, as he could have sworn he saw a gleam pass behind her eyes.

Harry then looked over and saw that Hermione was watching them as well as he thought he saw a look of betrayal roaming within her warm, brown irises. However, she soon looked away and focused her attention on Oliver. Needless to say, Harry observed that Hermione did not look over at him for the rest of the dinner.

After dessert had been consumed, in which Hermione's Battenberg cake was a particular highlight (it turned out to be Charlie and Fleur's favorite dish), Oliver stood to his feet, signaling he must be off. Everyone then murmured in agreement, as the hour was getting late.

Mrs. Weasley waved her wand, making the table and food disappear, while everyone started to wish each other farewells.

Oliver walked up to Harry and said, "This is your last chance, Harry, to play seeker for Puddlemere United. I'm telling you, it's a great career!"

Harry smiled over at his former Quidditch captain and replied, "Thanks, Oliver, but I'm pretty determined to become an auror."

"Okay, okay, I was just giving you another chance," Oliver responded, shaking Harry's hand, "but I have to admit, it would've been fun playing together again for the same team, don't you think?"

"Definitely," Harry stated.

"Good luck with everything, Harry," Oliver said, clasping his hand on Harry's right shoulder. "You were still the best seeker I had ever seen." With those parting words, Oliver disappeared with a small _POP_.

Harry turned around, glad that he got a chance to see Oliver again, as Fleur went up to Hermione and gushed, "'ermione, you must pleeze tell me 'ow you made 'dat wondervul cake!"

"Of course, it actually wasn't that hard at all," Hermione stated, smiling over at Fleur.

"I also might have to take a few notes," Charlie intervened, looking at Hermione, "that was incredibly delicious!"

As Harry was about to make his way over to Hermione, a voice called out his name from behind.

Turning around, he saw that Ron was standing before him, a look of guilt plastered across his face.

"Ron," Harry nodded, deciding to take the civil route with him. It then occurred to Harry that he and Ron had not spoken to each other since their spat back at St. Mungo's.

"Look, mate, I wanted to apologize for blaming you for Hermione's injuries. I just felt left out that you and her went off to Australia without telling me and for not bringing me along. You probably already know this but I tend to lash out my anger at those around me," Ron said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I still blame myself for what happened to her," Harry retorted, nodding his head over at Hermione.

"Yeah, well, you tend to do that to yourself," Ron replied. "You always feel responsible for things that happen to your friends that are out of your control."

"Perhaps," Harry said.

"Listen, Harry, mum suggested to me that I should talk with Hermione about our relationship, and I know that she told Ginny the same thing about you. I think there's been some sort of mix-up between the four of us," Ron relayed.

Harry looked over at him from behind his round glasses as he said, "Actually, you know what, I don't think there has been."

"You don't think there has been what," Ron asked, clearly puzzled.

"I don't think there has been a mix-up at all between the four of us," Harry reiterated.

"And what do you mean by that," Ron asked, his face steadily growing red in anger.

However, before Harry could reply, Hermione intervened, as she said, "Ron, I really want to talk to you."

After looking down at her, he nodded his head as they turned around and walked out of the canopy without another word, while Harry watched them blend in with the night, jealousy taking hold of his heart.

Just then, Ginny came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, while she said, "Harry, I don't think I told you how handsome you look in your suit; although, your hair could use a good comb-through."

Harry turned around and looked down at Ginny.

"We need to talk," he told her.

"Finally," Ginny sighed, taking his hand and leading him out from under the canopy, as she led him in the opposite direction that Ron and Hermione exited from.

They walked on in the darkness, as the creatures of the night harmonized with each other, creating a nighttime symphony.

The grass crunched underneath their feet as Ginny led Harry over to a collection of trees. As they stepped between the trees' thick trunks, Harry saw that a small, circular pond was hidden away from the rest of the Burrow. Harry noticed that a small assortment of dark green lily pads floated on the surface of the ponds' calm yet dark waters.

"If I were to take a guess, Ron and Hermione are probably having a long snogging session with each other right now," Ginny suddenly voiced.

"Er…what," Harry asked, confused as to why she would be talking about Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, we're alone now, you don't have to pretend anymore," Ginny replied, stepping closer to Harry, who remained completely oblivious to what she was talking about.

However, before Harry could do or think of anything else, Ginny quickly closed the gap that was separating her and Harry and started kissing him on the lips.

A second went by before Harry pulled back, keeping his hands on Ginny's shoulders, effectively restraining her.

He saw hurt flash through her eyes before she whispered, "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Ginny, what are you doing," Harry replied, deflecting her own question directly back at her.

"Isn't this what we wanted…for us to finally be alone together?"

Harry shook his head from side to side as he replied, "No, Ginny, this is what you wanted."

"What are you saying," she questioned, giving him a bewildered look.

"Ginny, I thought I made it clear that you and I aren't together anymore," Harry phrased at her, "I told you that the day I saw you at Hogwarts when we met in the corridor."

"And I thought I made it clear to you in my letter I sent you yesterday that I apologized for being jealous of Hermione. Harry, after talking with my mum, I realized that all I want is you," Ginny said.

"Ginny, this has nothing to do with apologies or being jealous. We're not together anymore," Harry said softly, "I broke up with you at the end of sixth-year."

"But you hinted that after the war was over, you and I would get back together," she stated, as her chin started to wobble.

Harry sighed as he said, "You're right, I did. But, being away for a year with Ron and Hermione, and everything that had happened between the three of us and what we all experienced together, it changed me, Ginny. After the war ended, I felt different about us being together."

Ginny sniffled but she seemed to refuse to let any tears fall. "Don't you remember what you said to me when you broke up with me, after Dumbledore's funeral?"

Harry shook his head back and forth.

"You said that being with me was the best thing that ever happened to you, Harry. Your only regret was that you didn't kiss me sooner because we could've had many more months, or years, being with each other. Don't you see it, Harry? Our relationship is one of your best memories that you have. All of the time we kissed by the lake or in secret passageways back at Hogwarts…those are the times that I cherish above all else because being with you was something that made me truly happy for the first time in my life.

"I felt that you saw me for who I truly am. Other boys just noticed me for my looks but they didn't give a damn about who I was on the inside. But you were different, Harry. I had a crush on you before I even met you! Hermione always told me that I should try to relax and be myself around you…maybe then you would notice me for who I was. And she was right. You noticed me during fifth year."

"Ginny, I remember saying those things to you, truly, I do. But I don't feel the same as I did back then," Harry replied.

Ginny stared up at him with wide eyes as she demanded, "What changed with you, Harry? What makes our relationship so different from what it was before?"

"I don't know," Harry responded, raising his voice in exasperation as he thought that he and Ginny were chasing each other in an endless circle, "I don't know what happened."

"Can't you look at this from my perspective, Harry? You have to realize how frustrating this is!"

The two stared at each other in the darkness, while the pond waters rested beside them, emulating a thin, black surface of indifference.

Ginny was the first to break the silence as she asked, "Did you read over my entire letter, Harry?"

As he nodded his head in answer, Ginny said, "Well how about we try what I proposed then: have Hermione stay with Ron and my mum here at the Burrow, while I go back with you to Godric's Hollow. After a few days, we can see how we feel about each other."

"Why would you think that would solve anything," Harry questioned.

"My mum thinks that you have forgotten about how good we were together," Ginny answered. "You were gone for so long searching for those horcruxes and when you came back, we all fought in the war. Afterwards, you and I hadn't got much time to spend just with each other. But what do you think about that proposition? I talked it over with Ron and my mum and they were both completely fine with Hermione staying here, and me going back with you. I'm sure Hermione wouldn't mind either."

"What about if I mind," Harry said, stopping Ginny in her tracks.

"What did you say," Ginny asked him quietly.

"You heard me, Ginny. I don't think I'm comfortable with you staying with me in Godric's Hollow."

"Is it because I'm not Hermione," Ginny questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, "because it seems to me that you and her have been spending an awful lot of time together, alone."

"Ginny, what did you think we have been doing? Do you think it's been all fun and games?"

"Just answer me this, Harry: why did you ask Hermione to go with you after the war ended? I was here at Hogwarts…you could've asked me," Ginny said.

"I looked into the Great Hall and I saw you and your family grieving over Fred. I didn't want to interrupt that because that wouldn't have been right. I walked outside of Hogwarts and I saw Hermione sitting by herself next to the lake. She's my best friend and I just asked her to come with me so that I could get away."

"Get away from what," Ginny asked.

"Everything! Ginny, you just can't expect me to wander around the castle aimlessly, where so many people that I was close to had died hours before. All I knew was that I had to get away, get away from Hogwarts and get away from everything that reminded me of the war. I didn't really know where I was going or what I would be doing, but I just left," Harry said.

Ginny nodded her head as she added on, "You left with Hermione."

"Yes, I did," Harry replied simply.

After a quiet moment, Ginny looked up at Harry and asked, "How could you do this to me, Harry?"

"What're you talking about," he asked.

"I'm talking about you betraying me for Hermione," Ginny replied coldly. "You and I are perfect for each other…can't you see that?"

"No, I don't see that at all," Harry replied in a calm manner, "you only see what you want to, Ginny. That's half of your problem. You just choose to completely ignore what you already know."

"What I know is that I love you with all of my heart. I could be a better lover than Hermione could ever dream of," Ginny said.

Harry shook his head from side to side as he replied, "Right now, it's not being about a better lover. Hermione understands what I went through because she experienced the same things as I did."

"And whose fault is it that you decided to leave me behind? I told you that I would go with you, Harry! I wanted to go with you!"

"What's done is done, Ginny! You can wish and want all you want to but nothing is going to change the fact that you weren't there with us! Don't you understand that? Hermione understood the risks of being associated with me, but she still was by my side everyday! She was even tortured by Bellatrix because of me! She even lost her parents because of me," Harry finished in a quiet manner.

Ginny scoffed as she asked, "So this is it then? You don't to be with me anymore?"

Harry looked down at Ginny and saw in the darkness that her eyes were pooling in her own tears. As much as he hated to hurt any one of his close friends, Harry owed Ginny the truth.

"I mean this in a nice way, Ginny, but no, I don't have feelings for you anymore," Harry said.

Ginny uncrossed her arms from her chest as Harry noticed that her hands were now balled into fists.

As tears started streaming down her face, she said, "I hate you, Harry! I can't believe you would betray me like this!"

In the next second, Ginny pushed against his shoulders roughly, and before Harry knew it, he had fallen into the still pond with a mighty splash.

Surprised, Harry grabbed his round glasses, which had departed from his face when he fell into the water, and shoved them back onto his face, shaking his head to rid himself of lingering droplets of water.

He then climbed out of the pond, as he could barely make out Ginny running away from him, her head buried in her hands.

Harry hated to break Ginny's heart; however, he did not regret telling her that he didn't have feelings for her anymore.

"Harry," a quiet voice called out suddenly from nearby.

He turned, as he said into the darkness, "Hermione?"

Harry then heard her murmur, " _LUMOS_."

Instantly, Hermione's wand tip ignited, as he watched her as she slowly walked up to him, taking in his wet appearance.

"Harry, what happened to you," she asked.

"Ginny accidentally pushed me into the pond," Harry replied.

"Really…are you sure it was accidental," Hermione asked.

"Okay well maybe it was somewhat purposeful," he appeased.

"You told her that you didn't want her to stay with you at Godric's Hollow," Hermione guessed.

"That and a little more," Harry nodded in answer. "And how was your snogging session with Ron," Harry joked.

"What," Hermione asked, completely perplexed that Harry would even suggest such a thing.

"It's what Ginny said you two were doing," Harry explained.

Hermione scoffed, "Oh, honestly! We pretty much yelled at each other the entire time."

"Really," Harry questioned, "I didn't hear anything."

"I put up silencing charms around us," Hermione said.

"Oh, that would do it, then," Harry replied.

"Harry, do you want to go back home," Hermione asked, "or do you want to try to fix things with Ginny?"

"Quite honestly, Hermione, I don't think she would even want to see me right now," Harry said, "she was pretty upset."

"Ron, too," Hermione agreed.

Harry nodded as he then felt as if a huge burden had been lifted from his shoulders. After clearing the air with Ginny, Harry felt liberated.

"We'll have another day to work things out with Ron and Ginny. Let's just go back home," Harry said quietly to Hermione, stepping closer to her.

"Let me dry you off before we go," Hermione stated, taking out her wand. She pointed it at him and said, " _TERGEO_." Immediately, the water was siphoned off of Harry as he felt dry once again.

"Thanks," he said, smiling slightly.

"No problem," Hermione replied.

"Are you ready to go then," Harry asked.

He saw that Hermione took one last glance from behind the trees they were situated behind, seeing the dim lights of the Burrow well off into the distance.

"Yeah," she answered after another moment, nodding her head.

Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione, pulling her close to him. He then apparated them away, hoping for nothing more than a time of peace. Little did Harry know though, that peace was far from him, and that madness would soon take hold.

* * *

Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Chapter 11 will be posted either late Tuesday night, or early Wednesday morning. Thanks for reading.


	11. Gravity

Chapter 11: Gravity

He remembered…they had been arguing about Dumbledore. They were on the run, Ron having left them weeks before, trying to track down Voldemort's horcruxes and the sword of Godric Gryffindor, yet after the skirmish that took place in Godric's Hollow, Harry and Hermione were running on near empty.

Harry had just read a chapter in the book titled _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_ , a tell-all tale authored by the vile Rita Skeeter, with the help of the famed wizard's long-lasting neighbor and no doubt a few memory charms, Bathilda Baghshot.

Harry had erected a mighty fortress of Dumbledore before him, with many sighting him as the greatest wizard of the age, in which Harry agreed with. However, Skeeter's chapter involving Dumbledore, and his childhood friend, Gellert Grindelwald, planning to conquer Muggles by force, made Harry question where his own true allegiance lay. He felt as if everything he had known about the famed headmaster was all a lie, like a black hole had swallowed a fantasy of Dumbledore Harry had gathered from his own time with the wizard and from those that knew him for decades.

Of course, this was after the fact that Voldemort's pet snake, Nagini, ambushed he and Hermione in Godric's Hollow, with Harry's wand being snapped in the process, as the pair thought that Dumbledore would have left the sword of Gryffindor with Bathilda. Finding no sword in their trip to the village, Harry had become aggravated and thought that maybe there was more than a sliver of truth in what Ron had said before he left: they were no closer to destroying Slytherin's locket than finding the remaining horcruxes.

Harry and Hermione were sitting against two trees, arguing about Dumbledore during the stinging cold of winter, when Harry dismissed her to go back inside the tent to get warm. After she hesitated slightly, she started to make her way past him when everything changed.

Hermione brushed the top of his head lightly with her hand while he closed his eyes at her touch. It was a small yet incredibly intimate moment and it was the very first time when Harry felt his heart stir with affection towards her.

This was what he didn't tell Ginny last night, for he couldn't find it in himself to speak the words to her. It was not because he was embarrassed or ashamed at what Hermione's contact did to him, but it felt like it was a small secret that only he shared with Hermione, just the two of them and no one else.

It was true that he had many intimate encounters with Ginny while the two were dating, but his affection didn't amount to anything close to what he had felt when Hermione brushed the top of his head. Just one simple touch stirred the confines of what he thought he knew about intimacy, upending all feelings he had for the youngest Weasley.

Perhaps it was the fact that Harry and Hermione were best friends and this mutual affection and attraction towards one another was years in the making. After all, they had spent so much time with each other over their six years at Hogwarts School, and they had since spent weeks without Ron, but just each other. But maybe it was something different; almost as if they weren't supposed to fall in love with each other, but Hermione's touch sparked a waiting fire.

Harry placed his hands behind his head as he rested against the pillows of his bed in Godric's Hollow, as the gray clouds of the overcast sky rumbled beyond the windows of his room.

Ron had left them at this point in time, angered and discouraged by the lack of progress they had made in their quest to defeat Voldemort once and for all.

It was just the two of them: Harry and Hermione, in what Harry felt, was them against the world. He, himself, had been dispirited as he felt as if he, Hermione, and Ron were swimming in an ocean with no bottom, and no top.

He relayed all of the information Dumbledore had told him before his death, yet the aged wizard left no instructions for Harry to follow. It was at this point in time when Harry had felt like a knight without his armor, like a phoenix without wings.

Harry felt like giving up, much as Ron had seemed to do, but Hermione was always there to pull him back to the ground and toward reality, like gravity. He would forever admire her fierce tenacity during that time to keep moving forward, for it was something that he would surely never forget.

With his round glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose, Harry sighed in contentment, as even breaths filled his lungs, before he effortlessly pushed it out of his body before breathing it back in again.

Hermione's touch was a moment in time that only he knew about, a moment in which he thought that Hermione meant nothing more than just a simple friendly gesture.

Harry remembered that there were so many nights where Hermione had cried, especially after Ron's departure, in which he didn't even care to go and try to comfort her. His heart didn't constrict at the sounds of her sobs back then, a stark contrast to what he would feel if she cried right now. He shook his head at the thought of all of those nights wasted, where he would track Ginny's movement by way of the Marauder's Map, trying to will her to feel that Harry always thought of her, while Hermione shed her tears in the hollowness of their tent.

While the pair were alone together, they were lost in a world at war, stuck in the middle of an era that would either be famous or infamous, citing whether Harry prevailed or Voldemort defeated his equal, once and for all.

But through the thick of everything that had taken place, Hermione had stood by his side, and after everything had finished, she was still here. Was it fate that brought the two of them together, or was it something different? Harry didn't know, and quite frankly, he didn't really mind what it was.

Despite his falling out with Ginny the previous night, and Harry had no doubt that Mrs. Weasley would be making her feelings known in a short amount of time as well, Harry felt happy. It was such a simple feeling that meant the world to Harry, as he spent so much of his early life feeling unimportant, useless, and unloved.

But now, everything was different for everything had changed. Harry now felt that his life had a true meaning behind it, which was the first time he had felt this way since the war had ended, and he was going to make sure Hermione was to be part of it.

It was true that he did share romantic feelings for Ginny in the past, but things were different now; one touch was all it took.

Just then, the door to his bedroom creaked open, as he turned to see Hermione peak her head inside.

"Harry, are you awake," her soft voice called out to him.

"Yeah," he replied, sitting up higher in his bed, straightening himself against his pillows he was resting against.

Hermione strode in at the next second, as a tray of food was levitating behind her.

"Hermione, what's this," Harry asked, noticing the floating food.

"I thought you would like breakfast in bed today," she responded, shrugging her shoulders shyly.

Harry smiled as he said, "Well, okay then."

Hermione waved her wand as the tray of food floated effortlessly down onto Harry's bed. He looked down at the food she had prepared and saw two bowls of cereal, a plate full of bacon and sausage, and four slices of fried bread, finished off with two glasses of juice.

"Hermione, this is amazing! Did you just make all of this now," Harry questioned.

She nodded her head as she answered, "I've been up for a while. You made us breakfast yesterday morning so it was my turn to make it for us today."

After Harry nodded his own head in understanding, he said, "Well come on then, let's eat!"

Smiling once more, Hermione took a seat atop of Harry's bed, sitting directly across from him with the tray of her prepared breakfast situated between them.

As they munched away on, what Harry thought, was as good a meal to rival that of Mrs. Weasley's, rain droplets started to patter softly against the window.

"This is delicious, Hermione, really," Harry said, as his stomach rumbled softly in agreement.

"Thanks, Harry," she responded, her cheeks turning a light pink. When she looked back up at him, she asked, "Have long how you been awake?"

Harry thought this over as he tried to do some mental calculations in his head. "A while now," he decided to answer, "why?"

"I was just curious. Usually, in the morning, just after you wake up, your eyes are red and you yawn several times," Hermione noted.

"I've been thinking about some things," Harry said.

"What things were you thinking about," Hermione asked innocently, after sipping her juice.

Harry regarded her for a long moment, as he noticed the effects of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion had long worn off, with Hermione's hair having returned to its natural bushy state.

"About the time you and I were together after Ron had left," Harry finally answered, "after we visited Godric's Hollow and all."

"That was a cold winter," Hermione stated as she nodded her head slightly, her eyes becoming somewhat unfocused, "I remember."

"What else do you remember about that time, Hermione," Harry asked curiously, seeing if her mind would think back on what Harry's heart had become so enamored by.

She looked thoughtful for a moment before she replied, "Well, I remember crying a lot because that was when I thought I had romantic feelings for Ron and he just left us. I remember not being able to sleep a lot, as I would always wonder if we would ever complete our hunt for the remaining horcruxes. I also remember worrying so much over you, Harry."

"Me," he asked, tilting his head sideways in question.

Hermione nodded as she responded, "Harry, I've told you many times before that I always worry about you. At that time, you seemed so lost and desperate. You were trying to find the motivation to keep going when there was none to run off of."

"You kept me motivated, Hermione," Harry answered seriously. "You always kept me going."

"Then I guess I'm able to put up a pretty good façade because there were so many times, so many nights, when I just wished we could have stayed where we were and forget about horcruxes and Voldemort and the war. For the first time in my life, I felt helpless because I didn't have all the answers to provide you with, Harry. I felt like I didn't want to continue with what we originally had set out to do and accomplish," Hermione breathed out, as it was clear to Harry that this one of the first times Hermione had admitted to being so near in giving up.

"But I also remember being hurt," Hermione added.

At this, Harry stared over at her with his bright, green eyes, as the rain continued to steadily beat harder against the window.

"Hurt about Ron leaving," Harry asked, growing uncomfortable with the way their conversation had abruptly altered course, diverting away from his initial question.

"Not exactly," Hermione shook her head in a small manner.

When she didn't elaborate, Harry softly inquired, "What were you hurt over?"

Hermione locked eyes with Harry as she responded, "It was after we visited Godric's Hollow, and Nagini attacked us, and I broke your wand. I remember telling you that I thought it was my blasting curse that snapped your wand, but I also remember that you were incredibly angry with me at that time. Even though it was my fault for what happened to your wand, I was hurt because I thought that I had severely strained our friendship."

"Over my broken wand," Harry tried to confirm.

Hermione nodded as she continued, "Harry, for witches and wizards, our wands are a part of who we are as individuals. We receive our wands when we turn eleven years old, as we connect with the wand that chooses us. Your wand was special, Harry, and I didn't think it could ever be repaired."

Harry then thought over what Hermione had said, as he noted that he was extremely angry after Hermione told him his wand had snapped. However, he also felt that he and Hermione were incredibly more vulnerable as the pair only had one wand from which to defend themselves with if need be.

"It wasn't just that my wand had been broken, Hermione," Harry started, "it was so many different things that happened around the same time: Ron leaving, Nagini's attack, and us barely escaping Voldemort in Godric's Hollow. It wasn't your fault at all; in fact, you were the one that got us out of there alive."

"I know but I couldn't help but blame myself," Hermione replied.

"But, my wand's been repaired," Harry told her, feeling that the mood in the room had taken a sudden dive, "it's something that happened in the past."

"I know, but that's one of the main things that sticks out in my mind whenever I think back about our horcrux hunt," Hermione stated.

"Well just so you know, I don't blame you for what happened. It's over now."

Hermione nodded over at him before she said after a thoughtful moment, "I also remember you looking at the Marauder's Map every night we were together. I think you were watching Ginny."

Harry nodded his head in understanding as he replied, "Yes, I tended to do that quite a bit."

As Hermione smiled over at him, another thought entered Harry's mind as he asked, "What did you say to Ron last night? All you told me was that there was a lot of screaming and that you put up silencing charms."

Hermione, her mood suddenly changing from morose to rather annoyed, huffed, before she began, "Well, he started the conversation by saying what Mrs. Weasley and Ginny said in their letters: about how he wanted me to stay over the Burrow with him for several days. I then asked him what if I didn't feel comfortable staying at the Burrow. And, well you know Ron, he immediately jumped to the idea that you and I had started dating behind his back. I told him that he and I weren't officially a couple in the first place. Of course, that upset him even more as he asked why, then, did I kiss him?"

"And what did you say," Harry asked.

"I told him the truth: I kissed him in the heat of the moment. My wind was on overdrive after everything that we went through over the past couple of days with what happened at Malfoy Manner, and the break-in at Gringotts…I wasn't exactly myself. He then asked me what I wanted to do, and I told him that I wanted to stay with you."

After Hermione spoke the words 'I wanted to stay with you,' Harry felt as if his heart swelled at least three times its normal size with both happiness and joy.

His pleasure must've been displayed on his face, as Hermione laughed quietly as she questioned, "Why are you looking at me like that, Harry?"

"What…oh, er…nothing, um, so what did Ron say to that," Harry stumbled over his words, feeling his face blush.

"He yelled, and shouted, and yelled some more before he told me that his worst fears had come true. I didn't quite understand what me meant by that but I'm guessing it had something to do with him dreading the idea that you and I would be anything more than friends," Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head, remembering the time when Ron had opened Slytherin's locket horcrux, where Harry had witnessed Ron's worst fears was for he and Hermione to share romantic feelings for one another. Although Harry had yet to admit his feelings for Hermione had grown far past the stage of friendship out loud, he felt a time would soon come for that to happen. The only thing that was holding him back was that he was unsure if Hermione felt the same way about him. He thought she did, but he didn't know as an absolute certainty.

"He then tried to persuade me to stay with him at the Burrow, that it would be far more fun than staying with you, but at that point, I was so fed up with him that I told him 'no' and walked away to find you. I first went back to the canopy because that was where I saw you last. Ron followed soon after, though he walked right past me, back into the Burrow, without saying a word to anyone. Mrs. Weasley didn't look to happy with me at the time," Hermione said.

"Did she say anything to you," Harry asked rather defensively, after he swallowed a piece of bacon.

Hermione shook her head, "No, but she give me quite a cold stare. But, then, I didn't really care as I wanted to find you so that we could leave. I walked away when I suddenly heard a splashing sound and I found you in the pond."

Harry smirked at this, remembering that Ginny had been so angry with him that she pushed him into the dark waters.

"Definitely not my best moment," Harry commented.

"I don't know…I thought it was pretty funny," Hermione joked.

Harry shook his head at her in mock anger while she laughed lightly.

The rain drops had started to grow fainter, as it went back to pattering softly against the window of Harry's room.

"Harry, I wanted to ask your opinion on something," Hermione suddenly said.

"Okay, what is it," Harry inquired.

Hermione let out a long breath before she stated, "I'm thinking about not returning to Hogwarts in the fall."

At her words, Harry was momentarily stunned. He stared over at her with wide eyes, before he mentally recovered and asked, "Hermione, are you sure about that?"

"Yes…and no. It's just a thought for right now, but I'm leaning more towards not going back," she replied.

"Is there any particular reason because this seems so unlike you," Harry stated.

"There isn't an exact reason as I had initially thought I would return," she said, while her hands wrung the base of her long-sleeved shirt, "but something is telling me not to go back."

Harry nodded his head, though he still thought that for Hermione not to complete her education at Hogwarts was out-of-character, especially for her.

"Well, I'll support you in whatever decision you make, but you don't have to give any definite answer right now. You still have the rest of the summer to think about it," Harry replied.

"I know, I know, it's just what's going through my head right now. Have you made up your mind," Hermione asked Harry.

"Not yet, but right now, I have to say that I don't think I'll be going back," Harry answered.

Hermione nodded her head at him in understanding. After a silent moment, she looked down and saw that her tray of breakfast foods had been depleted.

"Well, I'll take this down to the kitchen," Hermione said, waving her wand to make the tray levitate in mid-air once again. "And you should really get out of bed to start your day," she said, giving him a pointed look.

He smiled over at her as he said in a joking manner, "I'll think about it."

She rolled her eyes at him, while he laughed several times. Hermione got off of Harry's bed as he too stood to his feet, stretching his arms high over his head.

Just as she was about to make her way out of his bedroom, she suddenly stopped.

The rain then unexpectedly began to beat harder and harder, with water droplets pelting against the window.

Hermione looked back at Harry who was watching her curiously. Her warm, brown eyes looked lost in a faraway memory of hers as she said quietly, "I remember something else about the time you and I were together after Ron had left us."

Harry noticed that Hermione's eyes slowly looked down at her hand, before looking back up at his unruly hair. She then stared over at him for a long moment, as it seemed as if she wanted to say something to him, but she seemed hesitant.

Then, for some reason, their connection during that solid moment in time was suddenly severed. Hermione blinked rapidly a couple of times before she quickly made her way out of Harry's bedroom without another word, leaving him alone.

As Harry heard hear making her way down the staircase, he breathed in deeply, as he was unaware that his heart had started to suddenly beat very fast against his chest. Shaking his head slightly, he followed Hermione out of his room and entered into the second-floor bathroom, shutting the door softly behind him.

The rain outside had eased once again, returning to its pitter-patter state, while the grey, overcast clouds continued to roll over Godric's Hollow.

Harry looked at himself in the rectangular mirror of the lavatory, as he grasped the edges of the pure, white pedestal sink in front of him.

He knew in his head and in his heart that Hermione remembered her hand brushing over his hair. He saw with his own two eyes that she looked down at her hand before glancing up at his head, but why didn't she say anything about it? Was it possible that to Hermione, that touch really meant nothing more than a pure gesture of friendship? Was it possible that Harry was looking far too deeply into a situation that was strictly platonic?

Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes before splashing a cold bout of water over his face, as his mind became conflicted. He felt something for Hermione, that much he was sure of, but what he didn't know was how far the extent of his feelings had traveled to.

On top of that, he didn't know what Hermione felt of him, which was a more concerning matter. Did she view him as a friend, or a brother, or was it possible that she viewed him as something more?

As these wayward thoughts scattered throughout his head, he brushed his teeth, before exiting the washroom, and going back into his bedroom, changing into a dark blue shirt and a pair of jeans.

However, before he left, he found himself pacing around the inside perimeter of his bedroom, wondering if his initial question about if Hermione remembered anything during their time together after Ron had left them, had made them feel weird around each other, damaging their relationship they shared.

One of the things he liked most about spending his past week with Hermione was how comfortable they were around one another. There were no uncomfortable silences or awkward moments, for they understood each other on an unexplainable level. But what if Harry had asked too much? After all, Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, a title she so well deserved. She must've read the undercurrents of his question, and maybe she thought his implication was of a different meaning.

The entire time he paced around his room, however, Harry felt himself growing more and more uncomfortable with the thoughts that were plaguing his head. Sighing in defeat, he exited his room before making his way downstairs. He walked into the kitchen to see Hermione standing against the sink, with her back to him.

"Uh, Hermione," Harry asked, feeling somewhat nervous.

However, as she turned around, he saw that a piece of parchment was in her hand.

"What's that," Harry questioned.

"A letter from Mr. Weasley," she answered, but something in her tone of voice made him feel uneasy.

"What's it say?"

Without answering, she handed the letter over to him as he read:

 _To Harry and Hermione,_

 _I hope the two of you are doing well! I first and foremost wanted to thank the both of you for coming to Fred's funeral last night; it meant a lot to me and my family, as I am positive it would've meant a lot to Fred as well._

 _I am sending you this letter because I have some rather important things that I need to discuss with the both you, rather immediately. It turns out that your trip to Australia uncovered a rather large cage of pixies, more so than I am able to write to you both currently. I did not wish to impose this on you last night, in honor of my late son._

 _But, I hope for you Harry that you don't worry too much, as I am able to inform you that you have been cleared of all charges, and you will not have to stand trial in front of Australia's Magical Parliament Monarchy._

 _However, I'm afraid I can tell you no more until I see the two of you. If you are able to make it down to the Ministry of Magic today, that would be most ideal, as I will be in my office until noon, awaiting your arrival._

 _Hope to see you soon,_

 _Arthur Weasley,  
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

When Harry finished reading the letter, he looked up to see that Hermione was gazing over at him with questioning eyes.

"What is he talking about, Harry, when he said that you don't have to stand trial in front of Australia's Magical Parliament Monarchy," Hermione asked.

He sighed audibly as he set Mr. Weasley's letter down on the kitchen table, not willing to meet her eyes.

"Harry," Hermione asked, a slight edge to her voice.

"Back when you were in St. Mungo's, Mr. Weasley and Kingsley informed me that the magical officials of Australia weren't happy that a Death Eater had infiltrated their borders and that I had killed one of them," Harry answered. "They wanted me to stand trial because of what happened there."

"Why didn't you tell me about this," Hermione asked, her voice masking that of a soft, yet beautiful sounding bell that was ringing off across a green country.

He shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "I don't know, Hermione. I just didn't want you to worry."

"Harry, I told you earlier that I always worry about you," she replied softly, "and I don't think I'll ever stop. It's become like a force of habit, I guess."

"Mr. Weasley and Kingsley told me about this right before you woke up. You were badly injured and I didn't feel like you needed anything more to be anxious over. One thing led to another, and over time, I just forgot about it," Harry responded truthfully.

Hermione didn't nod her head in understanding, but instead, she just stood there, looking at him. Her eyes started to water slightly, while a stray lock of her brown hair broke away from the ponytail she kept it in, falling down her face.

"Hermione, what's wrong," Harry asked softly, walking towards her, his heart thumping in alarm.

A single tear escaped down her cheek towards freedom, as she looked away from Harry's face.

"I don't want to talk about them, Harry. I haven't had time to heal over my mum and dad yet," she said so quietly that he strained to hear her.

Without sparring a second thought, Harry pulled her into his arms as she cried softly into his chest, as her hands clasped behind his back. His embrace was not one of romance, but rather, it was one of genuine comfort.

"Well, you did pretty good last night, right," Harry asked her gently. "I didn't hear you having a nightmare or anything…maybe it's a small step for you in the right direction."

He felt her shake her head against him as she whispered, "I put up silencing charms."

At this, Harry felt as if he had been punched in the gut. He automatically stepped away from her, almost as if she had physically burned him. He stared over at her with his mind racing at the speed of light, while more tears rushed to the surface of her eyes.

Even though it hurt him to see her cry, anger rushed through his already shaking body, as he asked in a harsh voice, "Why would you do that, Hermione?"

She shook her head back and forth sadly, as she responded, "I didn't want you-," but Harry cut her off.

"To what?! To worry over you…to be concerned for you?! What was the reason?! How could you possibly even think to put up silencing charms?!" Harry's loud yells seemed to echo off of the cottage's walls, as he saw Hermione step away from him.

"Harry," Hermione started, her voice cracking.

"How could you even possibly think to do something like that?!"

As more tears ran down Hermione's face, Harry's anger subsided somewhat, as he tried to force himself to calm down; however, he was still aghast that Hermione would even think to put up silencing charms around her bedroom, trying to make Harry believe that she had no night terrors.

After taking several deep breaths, he said in as an even manner as he could muster, "Hermione, I told you before that I'm here to help you…that I want to help you. You've become so good at hiding your insecurities that sometimes I don't know what to think when I'm around you. But, I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

She sniffled, as she wiped away another lone tear. She looked up at Harry and replied, "I'm sorry, Harry, but I just didn't want you to see me like you did the night I was dreaming of my parents. Everything that has happened with my mum and dad this past week, I try not to think of it; I'm trying to block it out of my head. It just hurts too much to think otherwise."

Harry once again stepped closer to Hermione, as he looked down into her warm, brown eyes.

"You need me, Hermione," Harry stated firmly and clearly, "and I need you. I don't want there to be any more secrets between us, please. I promise to tell you everything only if you can do the same."

Hermione regarded what he had said, before she sniffled again, and nodded her head, though she was staring down at the kitchen floor.

Harry reached down and tenderly lifted her chin with his finger so that she would meet his eyes directly.

"How does that sound to you," he asked her.

While looked up at him, she nodded and said, "That sounds good to me."

Afterwards, Harry enfolded her into a hug once again, as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her as tightly as he could against him. In turn, Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around his middle, as he noticed that the side of her head was resting against his chest.

They stood like this for several minutes, just the two of them, holding onto each other tightly, as if their own sanity depended on it.

Harry heard Hermione sigh in contentment against him, as then a small smile escaped onto his face, while he rested his head atop of hers. It was at this moment in time when Harry closed his eyes, as he thought about the picture he had seen before of his mum and dad, sitting in the very kitchen he and Hermione found themselves in at the present time, holding onto each other's hands, while giving each other looks of pure affection and love.

Although he and Hermione were not gazing into each other's eyes as his parents had in the picture that was taken of them, did Harry and Hermione's embrace emulate that of his mum and dad, with the only difference being in their displays of affection was the time during a war versus the time after a war had ended? Harry didn't know, but the only thought that remained in his head at that moment was that he never wanted to let Hermione go.

He felt so right holding her against him as it felt the world had finally stabilized, almost like they matched up together like pieces of a puzzle. Harmony and calm surrounded the pair as Hermione was the first to loosen her arms around Harry's middle, in which Harry mentally protested. But soon enough, he too removed his arms from around her, even though he didn't want to, as Hermione gave him a small smile.

"You're too good to me, Harry," she said softly.

Harry shrugged his shoulders rather sheepishly as he replied, "We're good to each other."

Hermione sniffled for a final time before she let out a long breath and asked, "So do you suppose we should go down to the Ministry today?"

"Only if you feel like it," Harry responded, "because if not, we can always go another day."

"I know, but Mr. Weasley sounded pretty urgent that he see us as soon as possible," Hermione said back, walking over to the kitchen table and scanning over his letter quickly.

"He's probably going to ask us questions about what happened down in Australia," Harry told Hermione, turning around to face her. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with yet."

"I know," she nodded, "but we have to meet with him sooner or later and I think that we should go today."

"Okay," Harry said, "how about we leave in a couple of minutes, or so?"

"That sounds good," Hermione replied, "I still have to get dressed and everything."

With that, Hermione departed from the kitchen, leaving Harry behind. He picked up Mr. Weasley's letter again and re-read it. Although Harry was relieved he would not have to stand trial for the murder of the Death Eater, Mr. Weasley's letter implied that there was something bigger at work that he initially realized. Harry wondered what this could be, especially after the war, which had ended a little over a week ago, and had nearly torn their world in half.

Several minutes later, Hermione entered back into the kitchen. Harry turned to face her as he asked evenly, "Are you ready?"

She nodded before she asked, "Harry, do you want to take your invisibility cloak with you like you did last time?"

Harry thought about this for a moment before he shook his head. "I can't continue to hide," he reasoned, "it wouldn't make any sense."

After Hermione nodded her approval, the two stepped closer together. In the next second, she grabbed his hand and together, they disapparated out of Godric's Hollow in West Country and to the Ministry of Magic in London.

They appeared behind an old, one-story building, hearing the busy streets of a normal morning in Muggle London nearby. Not noticing that a copy of the _Metro_ had blown over near the base of a close-by dumpster, the pair walked hand-in-hand under an overcast sky, as they made their over to the bright, red telephone booth that would grant them access to the Ministry of Magic.

The pair shuffled inside it, as Hermione turned towards the telephone and pressed the numbers six, two, four, four, two. Instantly after she did so, the same, cool, female voice rang around the telephone box they had heard the last time they were here asking for a portkey from Kingsley to travel down to Australia, as she stated, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. We're here to see Arthur Weasley," Harry said at once.

"Thank you. Visitors, please take the guest badges and attach them to the front of your robes." They did as they were told after two badges slide out of the telephone chute. Harry looked down at his badge and saw _Harry Potter, Department of Magical Law Enforcement Engagement_.

"Please note that all visitors must require a wand investigation at the security desk, located at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a magical day," the cool voice finished, in which, the telephone box then started to sink into the pavement.

Harry and Hermione were both cast in a silent darkness momentarily before the telephone box appeared in the Atrium of the Ministry.

Harry opened the door for Hermione to step out first in which he instantly followed. As they proceeded to walk over to the security desk, the red telephone box rose up from the Atrium floor and disappeared up into blackness.

Green bouts of fire _whooshed_ on their left and right sides as workers entered the Ministry of Magic to start their work day.

Harry subtly noticed that many people turned their attention towards him, as he walked next to Hermione right past the fountain of the Magical Brethren. He then heard whispers behind his back as he grew distinctly uncomfortable.

 _"That's the one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, that is!"_

 _"He's the Chosen One, ain't tha' righ', 'Ern?"_

 _"My, my, bless their souls!"_

 _"What a handsome young fellow! My niece would appreciate an arm-candy like that!"_

Harry noticed that Hermione huffed audibly at that last comment, though he noted that otherwise, she generally ignored everything that was being said from around them.

The pair marched up to the security desk to see the same young man they had seen the last time they visited the Ministry. His brown hair was now slightly past his shoulders while his mustache was a little thicker than the time before.

Upon seeing the pair approach his desk, the man, looking at Hermione, said, "Back again, eh?"

"Yes," she replied a little curtly.

"Well you know the drill," he replied in a monotone voice, nodding his head for her to walked around his small desk.

"Stretch out your arms, miss," he ordered after Hermione stepped behind his desk. She did as she was told before the young man waved a thin, golden rod over her.

"Wand," he said next, clearly bored by the proceedings, as Hermione handed over her wand. He placed her wand on a scale in which afterward, a slip of parchment appeared.

"Ten and three-quarter inches, made of vine wood with a dragon heartstring core," he yawned widely.

After handing Hermione's wand back to her, he then waved Harry over wordlessly. Again, the young man waved the thin, golden rod over Harry, before holding out his hand for Harry to place his wand in.

Placing it on the same scale, a slip of parchment materialized in which the young man read aloud, "Eleven inches, made of holly with a phoenix feather core. Is that your wand?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

As the man handed Harry's wand back to him, his eyes gazed up first towards his face, before looking at his lightning-bolt shaped scar.

"Now hang on just a minute," the man began, his index finger pointed up in the air as if he was about to make a point of reasoning.

However, before he could do so, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him away, not before shouting a quick, "Thanks, have a great day," over her shoulder.

Harry looked down at Hermione with an amused look plastered over his face.

Noticing this, she gave him half a smirk and asked, "What's that look for Harry?"

"Nothing," he replied, "but I can still see that you're not overly fond of the security."

"Hardly," she replied softly, rolling her eyes.

The pair made their way over to the lifts, morphing into a larger pool of witches and wizards that had gathered there, in order to wait their turn to take the lift down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"I just don't understand, Nancy, why he would be hanging around someone like that," Harry and Hermione heard an aged witch say to her co-worker. "I mean, he's famous and all! Why on earth would Harry Potter settle for some simple Muggleborn? It just doesn't make any sense!"

Harry unknowingly squeezed Hermione's hand in anger.

He looked down at her as she squeezed back. She gave him a small smile as she whispered up to him, "Just ignore them."

He nodded once before hearing, "I know, I know! The young generation nowadays is all screwy if you ask me, Beth! My granddaughter, I think, would be a fine catch for Mr. Potter! But instead, the young lad wastes his time with that Muggleborn!"

"You know, I did read an article one time by Rita Skeeter, saying that the Muggleborn, whatever her name is, is extremely intelligent. I wouldn't put it past her type of people to slip him a love potion," Beth suggested.

"Oh, Beth, you may be onto something there! I'm telling you these dirty Muggleborns have no idea how to behave like proper, civilized witches and wizards," Nancy replied.

"Honestly," Hermione harshly whispered, as she tugged Harry away from Nancy and Beth, over to a line for a lift that was far away from the two women.

"Hermione, are you okay," Harry asked quietly, looking down at her.

She seemed to regain her composure somewhat as she replied after a long moment, "Yes, I'm fine."

"I thought that type of stuff would've ended after the war," Harry commented, looking back over at the two women who were still going about their conversation.

"Harry, there will always be people like that, holding their own prejudiced views against Muggles and Muggleborns. I don't think it's something that ever really goes away," Hermione responded.

"Well I think it's just ridiculous," Harry replied, "that one woman even called you simple!"

Hermione turned to face him with a smirk displayed across her face.

"Let's just forget about it," she told him, as the pair made their way into a lift, jam-packed with a crowd of witches and wizards, who again whispered at Harry and Hermione.

"Harry, what level is the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on," Hermione whispered over to him.

"I think it's on level two," he replied, pressing the '2' button.

The golden grills clanged loudly about as they slammed shut, while the lift plummeted downward.

After making several stops along the way, Harry and Hermione finally exited the wild lifts.

They walked down a short hallway, atop of a dark blue carpet, before turning a corner. The couple then faced a set of heavy oak doors, in which the words 'Auror Headquarters' was plastered upon in bright, silver lettering.

"Well come on then," Harry said, pushing open the doors with one hand, as his hand was still clasped with Hermione's.

The pair then walked through the doors and into a wide open space divided in small cubicles.

Looking around, Harry spotted an open door directly to his right, and led Hermione over. Peeking his head inside the doorway, Harry saw Mr. Weasley sitting behind a large desk scribbling away on a piece of parchment, while two stacks of papers towered against one corner of his office.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry called out, knocking against his door with his knuckles.

He looked up and said, "Harry, Hermione! Come in, come in."

They did as they were told as Mr. Weasley gestured for them to take two seats that were placed in front of his desk.

"Just a moment, I need to finish this off," he told them, as he continued to jot down a rather long note.

After he had finished, he picked up his wand and tapped the piece of parchment, which then folded itself up like an envelope.

"Minister Shacklebolt," Mr. Weasley said, in which the parchment zoomed out of the room and out of sight.

Afterwards, he flicked his wand over the heads of Harry and Hermione in which they heard his door close in the next instant.

Setting his wand down, he clasped his hands together, looked over at the pair, and said with a smile, "Harry, Hermione, how are you two doing this morning?"

"We're fine," Hermione replied, while Harry nodded his head in agreement next to her. "How are you?"

"I, myself, am fine, but I'm afraid that things are somewhat strained back at the Burrow," he replied, as his smile turned into a slight frown. "Ron and Ginny are quite upset."

"Mr. Weasley, Harry and I didn't mean to hurt Ron and Ginny last night. We really were there for Fred's funeral," Hermione said.

"Hermione, believe me when I say that I do not blame you or Harry for anything that happened. I'm happy that the two of you were able to make it last night, though I wish that Ron and Ginny had picked a better time to discuss rather personal matters with the two of you. As such, they both informed me that you, Hermione, were staying with Harry in Godric's Hollow," Mr. Weasley said.

"But I did not call you here to converse about the relationships of my children. I called you here today because after Fred's funeral last night, I found some rather unsettling news about the skirmish you two had whilst in Australia."

With these words, Harry instantly looked sideways at Hermione, which did not go unnoticed by Mr. Weasley.

"Hermione, I know that it must be hard for you to talk about what happened down there, but for reasons which I will disclose to the two of you very soon, I need to know exactly what you saw down there and what you remember of it," Mr. Weasley told her kindly.

She nodded her head as she then told her and Harry's tale of what she remembered down in Brisbane. All the while, Harry rested his hand upon her knee, letting her know that he was right beside her the entire time.

Harry noticed that Mr. Weasley looked quite horrified at what had transpired, as even though Harry had told him that Hermione's parents had been killed, he didn't know of the gruesome details of the situation.

When she had finished, Harry saw that her eyes were fixated down upon her lap. He lightly squeezed her knee in comfort, in which she rested her right hand over his, effectively trapping his hand.

"Hermione, I'm once again very, very sorry for what you had to see and for the loss of your parents," Mr. Weasley stated seriously.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Mr. Weasley sighed audibly as he continued, "Well, I have to inform the both of you that you did not battle any Death Eaters down in Australia."

At this, both Harry and Hermione looked over at him with stunned expressions.

"What," Harry asked, disbelief spreading throughout his body, "you told me that the woman I brought back from Australia was branded with the Dark Mark."

"Indeed, I did," Mr. Weasley replied, "but I'm sorry to say that I did not check for the Dark Mark myself. The two aurors that were standing guard of her hospital room in St. Mungo's informed me that they had seen the Dark Mark upon her arm. We transferred her to Azkaban prison to await her trail when she suddenly collapsed last night."

"Where is she now," Harry asked bitterly.

"She's dead," Mr. Weasley replied simply.

"She's dead," Hermione asked slowly, clearly confused. "But…how?" She looked over at Harry who wore a now shocked expression.

"That is what we are still trying to determine. She was imprisoned, alone in her own cell, when she fainted. There is no proof of foul play or anything of that matter. Her vitals were operating normally, according to Healer Jones when we brought her to St. Mungo's late last night. We, again, had two aurors standing guard of her room in the hospital. Healer Jones went in to check on her early this morning to find out that she had died, with both of her eyes missing," Mr. Weasley finished.

"Her eyes were gone," Hermione questioned, with a look of disgust on her face.

Mr. Weasley nodded as he answered, "Yes, both of her eyes were gone. It was then that I noticed that the Dark Mark was nowhere to be found on her arm."

"Could it be possible that it was under a disillusionment charm," Hermione asked, her face now serious.

"Certainly, but we checked for that and found that no sort of a disillusionment charm was used."

Harry and Hermione shared a look of concern with one another before returning their attention back towards Mr. Weasley.

"So what happens now," Harry asked.

"Well, right now, we have to find out as much information as we can about this woman, to see what connections she had, where she lived, with whom she spoke to. It's a process, but rest assured that it is an ongoing investigation."

"What about the two aurors that told you this woman had been branded with the Dark Mark," Harry inquired, "what happened to them?"

"They have been placed on administrative leave without pay," Mr. Weasley answered immediately. "I cannot have my department make these kinds of mistakes, especially after what had happened with V-V-Voldemort and the war we had just gotten out of. But, Harry, in my letter I sent to you early this morning, I did tell you that you do not have to stand trial in front of Australia's Magical Parliament Monarchy. But do you know why?"

Harry thought over this for a long moment before he answered, "Because I didn't kill a Death Eater."

"Exactly," Mr. Weasley responded.

Harry's mind felt discombobulated after everything Mr. Weasley had told him and Hermione. It seemed to him that nothing about this situation made any sense.

Suddenly, Harry remembered something he thought was worth noting. "Mr. Weasley, back at St. Mungo's, I met our old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Lockhart, on the fifth floor. He said that a raven had escaped in St. Mungo's. I didn't think much of it at the time, but when I came back down to the floor Hermione was on, there were feathers all over the ward. Wasn't the woman I brought back from Australia on the same floor as Hermione?"

Mr. Weasley considered what Harry had said, before nodding his own head. He took out a piece of parchment along with a quill and ink, before writing down what Harry had informed him.

"I'll look in that, Harry," Mr. Weasley said.

Mr. Weasley then looked over the pair before him with sad eyes and told them, "I know that this is probably the last thing you two want to deal with right now, but I want to issue you both a word of caution: it is clear that something is at work within our community, taking place out of the public eye. Just, please be careful. I don't know what we're dealing with here but it seems to me that we have been blind on this matter and that V-Voldemort and his Death Eaters were not the only threat to us here in Britain."

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry for the sudden end, but I had intended for this chapter to go on, but realized that it would've been way too long. Chapter 12 will be posted late Friday night. But be warned, that chapter will be quite a lot of "fluff." The beginning of this chapter highlights the proposal of when I think Harry and Hermione should have gotten together in the books. Thanks for reading.


	12. The Head and the Heart

Chapter 12: The Head and the Heart

Both of their heads were spinning at the information Mr. Weasley informed them of whilst the pair were at the Ministry of Magic. Death Eaters, in fact, had not impersonated Hermione's parents at all; however, Mr. Weasley had no answer as to who did or why.

Harry looked over at Hermione who looked to be just as confused as he felt. His hand, though, never left Hermione's knee, as he now held on to it just to make sure that he was facing reality instead of strolling through a new nightmare.

"I am sorry that I do not have all of the answers to your questions you have just now, but rest assured that this is a highly conductive case. We will have everything concluded in due time," Mr. Weasley said over to the pair with a sad expression upon his face, as his hands were clasped tougher, resting upon his desk.

Harry and Hermione nodded wordlessly, as they were both lost in their own thoughts, thoughts that were as wide as an ocean.

Noticing their silence, Mr. Weasley sighed and then asked, "Well, that was all I had to tell you for the time being. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

Hermione shook her head from side to side, while a thought popped in to Harry's head.

"Actually there is. A few days ago, my aunt visited Hermione and I in Godric's Hollow. She was able to see Potter's Cottage but I thought that the home was supposed to be invisible to Muggles," Harry questioned.

At this, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's eyebrows rose in surprise as he considered Harry's words.

"Indeed it is supposed to be," Mr. Weasley replied.

"But, Mr. Weasley, I read in a book back at Hogwarts that any magical enchantments that is placed around a property can be broken if a witch or wizard that has a claim for its ownership takes authority over it," Hermione intervened. "Couldn't that have been the case with Harry and Potter's Cottage?"

"Hermione, although you are quite right, that claim has to be undertaken with the Ministry of Magic, which I am certain Harry did not do, did you," Mr. Weasley asked.

Harry shook his back and forth in answer.

"But, how then could his aunt see Potter's Cottage," Hermione inquired.

"It's something that I'll have to look into," he replied, picking up his quill and jotting down another note on his parchment. "That is very odd, indeed."

"What happens if I never take claim of Potter's Cottage with the Ministry," Harry asked.

"Nothing happens actually," Mr. Weasley answered, "it's just that Potter's Cottage will remain hidden from the Muggles."

"But couldn't all wizarding families decide not lay claim to their own households so that they can remain hidden from Muggles," Hermione questioned, as her eyebrows pulled together in interest.

"They could do so," Mr. Weasley nodded, "but this branch of magical property does not pertain to all wizarding homes. A request must be made for this to take effect and it must be approved by the Ministry. I can tell you that not many homes of witches and wizards here in Britain are under such restrictions."

"But who made the request for Potter's Cottage," Harry asked.

"It was Professor Dumbledore. He made the request during the final days of the first war. Albus also placed the home of the Longbottoms under this protection as well. After V-Voldemort's first fall back in 1981, I believe Augusta Longbottom, that is Neville's grandmother, made her claim for the ownership of the Longbottom household, which was granted by the Ministry," Mr. Weasley explained. "However, this still does not clarify why Harry's aunt was able to see Potter's Cottage."

As Harry thought about this, he deduced that he quite liked the idea of Potter's Cottage being hidden from Muggles even though the home was situated quite far away from the nearest Muggle household. He decided that, for the time being, he would not put in a request to claim ownership of Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow.

However, another thought entered Harry's mind at that moment.

"Mr. Weasley, before they passed on, Remus and Tonks told me that I was the godfather of their son, Teddy," Harry started, though he was quite uncomfortable talking about Remus and Tonks. "I thought it would be a good idea to go and see him but I don't know where he lives."

"I can help you there, Harry," Mr. Weasley stated, fixating a bright smile upon his face. "Teddy lives with his grandmother, Andromeda, in Castle Combe, Wiltshire, right by the Bybrook River. Here, I can give the address."

Mr. Weasley once again scribbled away on a stray piece of parchment before he handed it over to Harry.

"Thank you," Harry replied, taking his hand off of Hermione's knee while retrieving the slip of parchment. He looked down at the address Mr. Weasley had given him, before folding it in two and putting it in his jeans pocket.

"No problem at all, Harry," Mr. Weasley replied happily. "I'm positive that you will be a great godfather to young Teddy Lupin, just as Sirius was to you."

Harry could only nodded his head in silence as was unsure of how to reply to that sentiment.

Mr. Weasley turned his gaze from Harry to Hermione, as he then asked, "And how are your injuries, Hermione? I forgot to ask you about them last night."

"My injuries are gone," Hermione answered with a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes, "there's no more physical pain at all."

"And how are you getting along with what happened down in Australia," Mr. Weasley inquired in a fatherly way.

Harry looked over at her in a concerned manner as she shrugged her shoulders while replying quietly, "It'll be a while before I can truly accept that they're gone."

Mr. Weasley nodded in understanding while he said, "I know it hurts, Hermione, but never forget that our loved ones never truly leave us, even if you can't see them."

Hermione could only nod her head at him in answer.

After a moment of silence, Mr. Weasley then questioned, "Do you two plan on helping with the Hogwarts' repairs? I believe they are starting that today."

"Really," Harry asked, as Mr. Weasley nodded his head.

"Yes, Headmistress McGonagall told me that she hoped for Hogwarts to re-open in time for the fall term. I believe she needed all the help she could get."

"We'll go there right away then," Hermione said, looking over at Harry who nodded his head at her statement, agreeing with her, happy to see that her focus had drifted away from the painful memory of her parents to helping Hogwarts.

Mr. Weasley smiled over at them, cheerful with the fact that after everything that had taken place at the ancient school, they were willing to go back to it.

Harry and Hermione then stood to their feet, getting ready to leave, as Mr. Weasley did the same. Hermione, however, seemed to hesitate for a small moment.

Shooting Harry a serious look, she turned her attention towards Mr. Weasley and said, "Mr. Weasley, I wanted you to know that I didn't mean to hurt Ron in any way last night. I know he's angry with me but I just don't share the same feelings he has for me."

"Hermione, don't put any of this blame upon yourself, and that goes for you too, Harry. Molly wants what she thinks is best for our children, and I can't help but share those same feelings. However, sometimes Molly decides to turn a blind eye in what she knows in her head to be true, only to placate what she believes in her heart. In your case, she firmly believes that Harry is the best fit for Ginny and that Hermione is the best fit for Ron. It also doesn't hurt that both Ginny and Ron share feelings for the two of you, also."

Seeing the expressions of the faces of Harry and Hermione, Mr. Weasley then continued, "Even though love may not be fair, always remember to never let it go to waste…only fools would ever think to do such a thing."

Harry thought he saw a look of rebuke in Mr. Weasley's eyes as he briefly looked from him to Hermione. However, in the next instant, it had vanished.

"Now," Mr. Weasley continued, "if the two of you still want to go to Hogwarts, you can use my fireplace to get there through the Floo Network."

"That sounds fine to me," Harry replied, while Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

"Excellent," Mr. Weasley replied, gesturing over to his office's fireplace.

"You go first, Hermione," Harry said.

She nodded her head at him, as she turned towards a small pot that was situated on the mantle of the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder. Throwing it into the fireplace, a bout of sparkling green flames burst forth.

"You're going to going to McGonagall's office," Mr. Weasley explained, before Hermione nodded and stepped into the emerald green flames.

Once she did so, she enunciated very clearly, "Headmistress McGonagall's office, Hogwarts castle!" Hermione disappeared instantly, as a cascade of golden sparks showered into the air, signifying her departure.

As Harry was about to step in the harmless, bright green flames, Mr. Weasley suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Harry, I must tell you before you leave to keep a look out over Hermione. I don't know who attacked her parents and killed them or why, but I believe that she is a target for an enemy we cannot see," he told him in a hurried manner.

"Don't worry, Mr. Weasley, I would do anything to protect her," Harry told him firmly.

"That's a good lad, now off you go," Mr. Weasley said, nodding his head towards the still burning fire.

Harry stepped inside, his mind racing with what Mr. Weasley had just told him, as a certain warmth spread throughout his body. Tucking his arms tightly against his side, he repeated Hermione's words loudly, "Headmistress McGonagall's office, Hogwarts castle!"

Harry suddenly felt himself twirling around in a quick pace like a spinning top, as his eyes barely viewed the other fireplaces that were connected to the Floo Network, zooming past each one.

Suddenly, he then stumbled rather unpleasantly upon a purple rug. As he opened his eyes, groaning slightly, Hermione's worried face came into view as she asked, "Harry, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he responded, as Hermione grabbed his right arm and helped him pick himself up off of the hard floor.

Rubbing the back of his throbbing head, Harry looked around to see Headmistress McGonagall was sitting behind her desk, watching the pair with interest, though her hand was still clutching the outline of her heart, as if she had been startled. He also noticed that all of the portraits that hung from the walls of the office, including that of previous Headmaster Dumbledore, had their eyes upon the pair.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I was just telling Miss Granger what a pleasant surprise it is to see her and I must extend that same welcome to you as well," McGonagall said, "though I must admit that your visit is rather unexpected."

"We just came here from Mr. Weasley's office in the Ministry," Harry explained, "to help with the repairs of Hogwarts."

Harry noticed that Dumbledore's eyes seemed to swell with both pride and joy.

McGonagall, herself, seemed a bit taken aback, before she replied, "Of course, of course, but please, both of you take a seat as there is something I need to tell you."

Hermione relinquished Harry's arm as they walked over to two comfortable looking chairs and sat down in them, looking over at the new headmistress of Hogwarts. Harry noticed that the usual stern expression that seemed to be fixed upon the face of their past Transfiguration professor, was now one of contentment.

"First and foremost, I wanted to congratulate and thank the both of you over what you have accomplished and finished over the past half a year. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to you two and Mr. Weasley over the defeat of Voldemort."

Both Harry and Hermione nodded their heads in acknowledgement over what McGonagall had said to them.

"I also wanted to know what your plans were pertaining to next term. Obviously, you did not complete your seventh-year but I am putting forth the fact that any student who wishes to complete their seventh-year and take their N.E.W.T.s are welcome to return to Hogwarts. I would like to let you know that, if you return, you will be appointed the positions of Head Boy and Head Girl."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that Hermione had physically perked up, as he knew that one of her greatest ambitions since ever reading _Hogwarts, A History_ , was to be Head Girl in her final year at the school. Harry, however, was surprised that he had also been selected for this distinct honor.

"Me, professor," he questioned, his eyebrows raised.

"Why I thought that would be fairly obvious, Potter, given all that you have done," McGonagall responded.

"But, what about Ron? He was a prefect before, and he was with us most of the time we were away," Harry replied.

"While that may be true, Potter, I have decided that your achievements, especially in defeating Voldemort, were more than worthy of becoming Head Boy," McGonagall said proudly, "but you must believe me when I say that I am not discrediting any fact of Mr. Weasley's triumphs in the slightest. This is all, of course, if the two of you decide to return on September first. Now, I believe that Miss Granger will come back, but I do not know yet, Potter, if you had chosen what you are going to do."

Before Harry could reply, Hermione cut in and said, "Actually, headmistress, I don't know what I'm going to do either."

After she said this, McGonagall's eyebrows shot up nearly into her retreating hairline, while her eyes grew wide as she looked over at her best student.

"Miss Granger, are you sure about that?"

"I don't know for sure, but recently, I had a change of mind," Hermione answered honestly. "I may come back and I may not."

After several long of moments of stunned silence, in which Harry thought that McGonagall was still trying to come to terms with the shock that Hermione might not return, the headmistress nodded her head and said, "Very well, whatever you choose to do, I'm positive that you will accomplish many great things, upon a much higher level than all of the accolades you have garnered over your years at Hogwarts."

Harry smiled over at Hermione with pride as she, herself, seemed close to tears at the kind sentiments her favorite professor had regaled to her, while her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

"Thank you," she replied quietly.

After McGonagall offered her one of her rare smiles, the headmistress looked over expectantly at Harry.

"I also don't know if I'm coming back," he said, "but I don't know if I ever really considered it. I think that too much has happened for me to return."

McGonagall nodded over at him in understanding as she said, "I know what you mean, Potter. I think that deep down, I knew that you weren't keen on the idea of coming back to complete your education but I thought there was always some hope for you to do so."

"Well there still is," Harry replied, "I haven't made my final decision yet."

"You both have until the third week of August to give me your answers, so you have plenty of time to think it over," McGonagall relayed kindly. "Also, I do hope to have Hogwarts repaired before the end of the summer as the Ministry of Magic plans to have a celebration, here at Hogwarts, marking the end of Voldemort and the war. Minister Shacklebolt seems rather adamant over this issue as he believes this will truly mark the end of an era, as it will also signify our first step into the future that follows."

Harry looked over at Hermione, who was staring back at him in turn. He tried to convey to her through his gaze that he wasn't at all thrilled with this idea.

McGonagall, however, didn't seem to notice this, as she then said, "Now getting back to the topic at hand, I believe the repairs on Hogwarts will progress at an even pace if we subject different individuals to different parts of the castle that has been heavily damaged. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Slughorn have been hard at work in the restoration process, but as you two are both well aware, Hogwarts is quite large. I would like to have the two of you work on Gryffindor Tower, the seventh floor corridor, and the library. How does that sound?"

"That sounds perfectly fine, headmistress," Hermione said at once. "We'll get to work on that right now."

Harry and Hermione stood to their feet as McGonagall once again awarded them with a small smile, before they turned and departed from her office.

The pair descended the spiral staircase and stepped onto the stone floor of one the corridors of Hogwarts.

"Shall we start with Gryffindor Tower," Hermione asked, looking up at Harry.

"Yeah," he replied shortly, nodding his head, as they proceeded to make their way over to the place that had been their living quarters for the better part of the past six years.

Harry's mind, however, was clouded in doubt. Back in her office, McGonagall had told them that Shacklebolt planned to celebrate the end of the war, but he felt far from being a part of any form of celebration. Harry still felt heavy, as if his heart was weighed down by an anchor, by the loss the war had shed. How could anyone think about rejoicing during a time of such pain, sadness, and ache?

"Harry, are you alright," Hermione asked, breaking his train of thought.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbled off-handedly.

Suddenly, Hermione's hand wrapped around his wrist, making him halt in his tracks.

"Harry," she started quietly, "don't you think that I would know by now whether or not you were telling me the truth?"

When he looked down at her, he felt his expression soften.

He sighed before he said, "I just don't know how Kingsley and McGonagall can talk about celebrating after everything that has happened. It's almost like they don't remember everyone that has died or everything that we lost during the war."

"Harry, I don't think Minster Shacklebolt or Headmistress McGonagall has forgotten the people that have died or the things that we lost; this celebration is supposed to represent the final end of Voldemort and the war. No one will ever forget the people that gave up their lives, fighting for what they believed in, like Fred and Remus and Tonks, but it's just like you told me before when my parents died: they wouldn't want us to continually despair over the loss of their lives, but instead, they would want all of us to live our lives to the fullest, living with no regrets."

Harry considered her words before shrugging his shoulders and saying simply, "I just don't feel this is worth celebrating."

"I know why you would feel that way, Harry," Hermione replied, taking his hand in hers, and squeezing it, "we all have our own ways in overcoming the loss of a loved one. It's okay that you feel this way."

Harry nodded his head once as he and Hermione strolled down the empty corridor, hand-in-hand.

The clouds outside the windows of the citadel had blanketed the sky above, obscuring the sun from Hogwarts. However, even though the rain had stopped falling for the time being, the clouds overhead indicated that the atmosphere was not to remain dry for much longer.

As the pair walked along a hallway lined with glass windows, Harry turned his head to look down at Hermione as he asked, "Hermione, what do you think about what Mr. Weasley told us back at the Ministry?"

She took a moment to ponder over his answer, before she replied, "I don't really know what to think, actually. This whole situation is just so confusing now. I mean, it doesn't seem like this was a random act of terror…it was coordinated and planned. I just hope Mr. Weasley can sort this mess out as soon as possible."

"You know I'll be here for you, right," Harry asked, as he stopped walking, making Hermione discontinue as well.

The pair turned towards each other as Hermione responded, "I know, Harry. You've helped me a lot ever since we came back from Australia."

Harry cocked his head to one side in question, as he didn't believe he had done too much in trying to console Hermione over the death of her parents.

"Really…how," he asked.

"Just by being there for me," Hermione answered straightforwardly. "I think that me staying with you in Godric's Hollow has helped me a lot, also. I couldn't even imagine being by myself at a time like this."

Harry took a deep breath before he said, "Well, you never have to be alone again."

At this, Hermione looked up into his bright, green eyes, with a puzzled expression upon her face.

"What do you mean by that," she asked, as their hands were still clasped within each other's.

Harry stumbled over what he wanted to say to her. "I mean that you're welcome to stay with me for as long as you'd like. After all, I'm the only one that lives there right now."

"I actually never really thought about living arrangements. I mean, we never really had to before. But if we don't come back, then it'll be different," Hermione reasoned.

"Why don't you stay with me," Harry suggested, "there's more than enough room for the two of us in Godric's Hollow."

"I know, but I don't think I could stay there forever."

"Why not?"

"Harry, it's your home, not mine."

"Do you mean that it doesn't feel like home to you," Harry asked.

"No, no that's not what I meant at all. I love the feel of Potter's Cottage; it feels so warm and inviting and cozy. But, it isn't something that I can call my own," Hermione explained.

"Do you miss your old home you had with your parents," Harry questioned, looking down at his best friend.

"Yes…and no. I miss it because that is where I grew up. I have so many memories from that house: it was where I performed magic for the first time…it was where I helped my dad cook and bake in the kitchen…and it was where I felt safe from everything and everyone around me. But, part of me never wants to even think about the home anymore because of my parents."

Something Hermione said, however, bothered Harry quite a bit.

"What do you mean when you say that you felt safe from everything and everyone around you," he asked, his eyebrows pulled together.

"Growing up, I didn't have many friends," Hermione started, before she paused for several moments. "Actually, that's not true; I didn't have any friends at all. I always was reading everything I could get my hands on. Even when my mum and dad took me to the playground or to the park, I always brought a book with me to read. Kids thought that I was weird and they made fun of me for it. They also teased me because of my hair and my two-front teeth that seemed out-of-place. I didn't really know how to talk to anyone my own age and I felt that no one would accept me anyway. So, instead, I read all the time.

"I escaped into faraway worlds that seemed so different from my reality. I used reading as a form of escapism. I could tell that my mum and dad wished and hoped that someday I would make a true friend…someone who was real, not fake or imaginary. But, before Hogwarts, I never did make any friends…not in grammar school, not on the playground, and not in the park."

At this point in time, Hermione looked away from Harry, as she pulled her hand out of his. She retreated over to a nearby window, looking out over the empty grounds of Hogwarts, while she wrapped her arms around herself.

Seeing Hermione in this state, Harry felt his heart constrict within his chest. He had never before given much thought to what Hermione's life was like before she came to Hogwarts for she had certainly never complained about it. However, after Hermione's confession, he came to the realization that Hermione was just as lonely as he was, while he lived with the Dursleys. Of course, their upbringing was drastically different from one another, as Hermione's mum and dad were loving and caring people, which was the complete opposite of Harry's aunt, uncle, and cousin.

Harry slowly walked over to her, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He gulped rather loudly as he let out a long breath and said, "Hermione, you have friends now. You have me, Neville, Luna, and even Ron and Ginny to an extent."

At this, Hermione actually cracked a smile as she turned to face him, and said, "I don't really know about Ron and Ginny at this point. Even though I don't think that we're enemies, I'm not sure if they would consider me a friend of theirs right now."

"Well, you and I are probably in the same boat," Harry responded, nodding his head.

"Do you ever think things will return to normal with Ron and Ginny," Hermione questioned, looking up at Harry.

He shrugged his shoulders before replying, "I guess that depends if Ron and Ginny can accept the fact that we don't share the same romantic feelings they have for us. In a way, I don't think things will ever return to how they were before between the four of us…too much has changed."

"It's quite sad when you think about it, though, how feelings for one person can dramatically change how you go about being around that same person you have feelings for," Hermione stated thoughtfully. "I didn't ever think our friendship with Ron and Ginny would end like this."

"Then don't think of it as an end. Instead, try to think of it as the 'time being.' Anything can happen," Harry inserted.

Hermione nodded her head as her eyes raced around the stone floor beneath Harry's feet.

"Yeah, you're right, Harry," she said, looking back up at him.

However, when she did so, Harry's bright, green eyes locked onto Hermione's warm, brown irises. It was then that Harry felt that same magnetic pull towards Hermione, as his mind wondered and hoped that she felt it too. Harry took a step closer to Hermione, as they both seemed like they were lost in a trance they held over each other. Harry felt both his head and his heart yearning for him to lean down and kiss Hermione as he wanted to do so for quite some time now. But he didn't know if Hermione wanted him to; he didn't know how she would react if he kissed her.

Before he could muster his Gryffindor courage, a voice suddenly shattered the tense yet fragile air between Harry and Hermione.

"There you two are!"

Harry and Hermione instinctively stepped away from one another in a rush, as they turned their heads to see that Mrs. Weasley was making her way towards them.

"I have been looking all over the castle for you two! I really think we ought to sit down and have a chat," she said, with a large smile on her face.

"Mrs. Weasley, what're you doing here," Harry asked.

"Well I just talked with Arthur and he told me that the two of you had just visited him," she explained, "and came here to help with the repairs. But, there is something that I would like to say to the two of you."

Harry and Hermione shared a look with one another. One part of Harry wanted nothing more than to grab Hermione's hand and pull her away from this sudden situation that had presented itself before them, as an uneasy feeling had slowly crept over his body in goosebumps. However, the other side of Harry was somewhat interested in what she had to say, as he wanted to mark an end with Mrs. Weasley's attempts to pair him off with Ginny, and for Hermione to go off with Ron.

Hermione seemed to agree with this, as she nodded her head and said, "Okay, where would you like to go?"

"How about the Gryffindor common room," Mrs. Weasley suggested, "it's a place that we are all rather familiar with."

As Hermione nodded her head again, Mrs. Weasley beamed, and bustled towards them, squishing her away between Harry and Hermione, effectively separating them from one another.

An uncomfortable silenced settled upon this odd trio, as they made their way towards Gryffindor Tower.

They walked down a long hallway before they saw the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. However, upon reaching the painting of the Fat Lady, she looked down at Harry and said rather scornfully, "I'm afraid, my dear, that we see far too much of each other for my liking."

Harry mentally agreed though he decided he would keep his mouth shut, as he was now thoroughly annoyed that Mrs. Weasley had interrupted his time with Hermione. He since regretted not taking Hermione's hand and walking away from the Weasley mother with her.

"That's no way to talk to the man that saved the wizarding world," Mrs. Weasley said, her hands on her hips. "Do you have any idea who this boy is?!"

The Fat Lady's eyes grew wide as she raised her hand and rested it upon her chest before saying, "Excuse you, but this boy has chastised me over the past week far more times than I can count."

"Oh what a bunch of nonsense," Mrs. Weasley yelled, waving both of her hands at the painting.

This did not sit well with the Fat Lady as her face had suddenly turned a bright red as she said back, her voice shaking in a barely controlled anger, "Well, it is not my fault, darling, that you weren't around to see it! Perhaps you were too distracted with concocting another love potion!"

Mrs. Weasley's jaw dropped open, before she mentally recovered and screamed, "How dare you?!"

"How dare me, oh no, how dare you," the Fat Lady quickly shot back, as Harry noticed her hands had balled into fists at her side.

As the two women stared daggers at each other, Mrs. Weasley then said with quite an air of arrogance, "Well, at least I have a talent with potions, which is far more than I can say about you and your singing ability, or lack thereof!"

Just as the Fat Lady was about to angrily reply, Hermione stepped in front of the Fat Lady and said in a calm manner, "Please, all we want to do is to get into Gryffindor Tower."

The Fat Lady looked down at Hermione as if she had suddenly grown another head.

"And why on earth should I let you three inside? You have with you, you have this little boy here," the Fat Lady started, pointing a sausage-like finger at Harry, "who goes around, laughing and making fun of me, while this woman over there," she continued, directing her stubby finger towards Mrs. Weasley, "goes around insulting me!"

"But if you let us in, we could be out of your way and you won't have to see any of us again," Hermione tired to reason, "accept when we leave, of course," she muttered under her breath.

The Fat Lady glared down at both Harry, and then at Mrs. Weasley, before she swung open her portrait, emitting the three to venture inside.

"What a testy woman," Mrs. Weasley declared loudly, when the trio had made their way into the Gryffindor common room, "I don't remember her being like that during my time at Hogwarts."

She then looked over at the expectant faces of both Harry and Hermione.

"Well, let's all take a seat," she exclaimed in a somewhat excited manner, as Harry and Hermione took a seat next to each other on the couch in front of the fireplace, while Mrs. Weasley whipped out her wand and waved it in the air, before a comfortable looking chair appeared instantly in front of Harry and Hermione. Harry inwardly thought that their seating arrangements represented some sort of counseling service.

"So, Harry, Hermione," Mrs. Weasley started, "last night, I must say that the two of you left at a rather inopportune time, as both Ron and Ginny seemed quite distraught after the conversations you had with them. I know that we are all going through a period of transition right now, seeing that the war had just ended and all, but I firmly believe that my children are the best fit for the two of you."

Anger started bubbling inside of Harry at her words, but before he could say anything, Hermione replied, "Mrs. Weasley, Harry and I both love Ron and Ginny as our friends. We spent so much time together over our years at Hogwarts together that I don't think we see them as anything more. Even though Harry and Ginny had dated before and I kissed Ron during the final battle, our feelings for them have changed since then."

Mrs. Weasley seemed to regard Hermione's words as she then expressed, "Well, can't you give them another chance? My children are hurting, Hermione, and they are hurting quite thoroughly."

"I don't mean any disrespect, Mrs. Weasley, but we are all hurting right now," Hermione responded. "Not just Ron and Ginny, but also me and Harry."

"Which is why I think that you two should pair up with my children," Mrs. Weasley stated, "it's all such a perfect fit! I know that my family doesn't have a lot of money, as we are quite poor, but the Weasley family offers so much love and admiration for the two of you, especially Ron and Ginny."

When Harry heard the pleading issuing within the words she spoke, he wondered why Mrs. Weasley was so intent on the idea that he and Ginny and Ron and Hermione should date each other. To him, it didn't make any sense why she would champion the idea so much.

After a quick moment of silence, Harry saw out of the corner of his eyes Hermione shrug her shoulders and say, "We just don't feel that way anymore about Ron and Ginny, there's nothing more to it."

Mrs. Weasley then turned to Harry and asked, "Well, what do you think, Harry dear? My Ginny is totally and completely heartbroken with this matter at hand. You don't like to see her like that, do you?"

Harry inwardly sighed before he said, "No, I don't like to see her like that, but, I also told Ginny more than once that I don't share the same feelings for her that she does for me…at least, not anymore."

"I just don't understand! You were a perfect fit for her, Harry! What changed between you two," Mrs. Weasley questioned, her face growing red in anguish.

"Everything changed," Harry stated simply, "I changed and so did Ginny. We aren't the same people that we were back at Hogwarts."

Mrs. Weasley stared over at the pair of them for a quick minute before she threw her hands up in the air and cried out, "Well I don't believe this! After everything I did for the two of you, you are willing to turn your backs on the Weasley family? This is just preposterous! We all treated and considered you as our own family! You two should be ashamed-,"

However, before she could say any more, Harry stood to his feet in an instant, fury rolling off of his body in waves.

In as even a voice as he could manage, he said, "Hermione and I haven't done anything wrong and we didn't turn our backs on the Weasley family. We have already told you that we don't feel the same way as we did before for Ron and Ginny. If you can't accept that, then that's not our problem. But I am tired of feeling like the bad guy just because I don't have any romantic feelings for your daughter anymore. You are trying to persuade Hermione and I to enter into relationships that we don't want to be a part of. I don't understand why you can't see that?"

"My Ginny loves you, Harry, with all of her heart. If you could just give her another chance…,"

"She doesn't love me…she loves the idea of me," Harry replied in a cold voice.

With that being said, Harry strode away from a shocked-looking Mrs. Weasley and left the Gryffindor common room in haste.

Roughly pushing open the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry stepped out from behind it, and walked down the soulless corridor, before turning a corner, and tearing down the staircase, and into the Entrance Hall. He then pushed open the great, front doors of Hogwarts castle, and walked outside, breathing in gulps of fresh air.

Shaking his head softly from side to side, Harry wandered over the vacant grounds of the castle, bypassing Hagrid's hut, as he found his feet carrying him over to the Beech tree, plotted near one of the banks of the Black Lake, its branches stretched out at odd angles, as if the tree itself was reaching out towards something that was just past its grasp.

Sighing to himself, he then took a seat, resting his back against the bark of the tree with his elbows resting upon his knees, as he gazed out over the smooth waters of the lake, as dark, gray clouds started to slowly crawl over the hills that surrounded Hogwarts castle.

A sudden breeze washed over his face, as he felt the wind ruffle through his already messy, jet-black hair.

While Harry sat under the tree, he remembered how this was the same exact spot in which Harry's father and his best friend, James and Sirius, had tormented Snape in front of their entire year, just after they had finished their O.W.L.s. That was also when Lily stood up for Snape, only for him to call her a mudblood.

He was then reminded of the time when both he and Ron, had sat under this same tree, working on their homework, while Hermione sat nearby, making hats to free the Hogwarts house elves.

Just as the quietness of the day packed in around him, Harry heard soft footsteps, walking across the grass somewhere behind him.

Not a minute later, he looked up and saw Hermione had made her way over to him. Without saying a word, she took a seat next to him, as she turned her head to look over the waters of the Black Lake.

For some time, the pair didn't engage in conversation, for they felt as if they didn't need to at that moment.

As another breeze blew over the couple, Harry turned his head towards Hermione and asked sharply, "Where's Mrs. Weasley?"

"She left," Hermione replied without looking at him. "She seemed pretty shaken when she did so, though."

Harry shrugged his shoulders with nonchalance, as he replied honestly, "Good."

Hermione turned to look at him with his answer.

"Don't look at me like that, Hermione! You can't tell me that you agreed with what she told us back in the Gryffindor common room."

"I wasn't going to because I didn't agree with her at all, Harry. But she is quite persistent, if you ask me. She doesn't seem to understand when to give up," Hermione responded softly.

"D'you reckon she'll try again," Harry asked.

"Probably," Hermione answered, "but not for a while."

"I just don't understand why she wants the two of us to go off and date her children," Harry thought aloud, "she seems obsessed with the idea of paring us off with Ginny and Ron."

"I think it would be for the best if we stayed away from the Burrow and especially away from Mrs. Weasley," Hermione offered. "I'm quite tired of her at the moment."

"I couldn't agree more," Harry said back.

For a few moments, they were quiet, before Hermione turned to look at Harry.

"Harry, can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything," he replied, looking at her.

"I was wondering if I could stay with you for right now, at least until I can save up for my own place," she asked.

"Hermione, how many times do I have to tell you: you can stay with me for as long as you like. In fact, if you wanted to stay forever, I wouldn't have a problem with that either," Harry answered genuinely.

Hermione laughed as she responded, "I don't think you'd like living with me forever. You would probably get tired of me being around all the time."

While Harry didn't answer her right away, something inside of him told thought that she was wrong about that.

"I don't know if that's true," he said.

"Harry, I'm just a bossy little know-it-all," she told him, laughing at herself.

Harry shook his head from side to side as he phrased, "No, you're more than that...a lot more."

Hermione looked at him with a serious expression on her face, as she knew that Harry wasn't joking with what he had said. After a few noiseless minutes, Hermione stood to her feet.

Looking up at her, Harry asked, "Where are you going?"

She looked down at him as she answered, "Harry, we came here to help with the repairs, remember?"

He nodded his head as he too, stood to his feet and asked, "Where are you going to start?"

Hermione seemed to ponder over his question, before she decided, "Well, I was going to start with Gryffindor Tower but I don't think the Fat Lady is keen on seeing us twice in one day. So I probably am going to go to the library."

"I'll go with you," Harry said, as the pair started to make their way away from the Black Lake.

Just then, however, a single raindrop fell atop of Harry's head. Not a second later, pellets of heavy rain started to descend over the grounds of Hogwarts in unforgiving sheets.

"Come on," Harry yelled, grabbing Hermione's hand and taking off.

The two Gryffindors raced up the sloping lawns of the castle, as Harry also noticed that Hagrid had bolted out of the Forbidden Forest and was racing towards his hut, with his huge arms covering his head, as Fang followed the half-giant.

Laughing, Harry pulled Hermione faster towards the open front doors of the citadel, as the rain kept getting heavier and heavier.

Suddenly, Harry slipped over a wet patch of grass as he then fell face first onto the ground, while Hermione fell on top of him in a high-pitched scream.

As Harry felt Hermione maneuver her body off of him, she asked, "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, don't worry. Let's go," he said in a rush, as the rain kept falling over the grounds.

Grabbing each other's hands once again, Harry and Hermione ran through the open doors of Hogwarts, as the castle provided them with the shelter they sought.

"Well that was unexpected," Hermione declared, as a smile slowly crept over her face.

"Yeah, definitely," Harry affirmed.

He looked over at his best friend and saw that her hair was clamped down on her head from being wet, while drops of water and spurts of mud dotted her face. Harry thought that, at that moment, she never looked prettier.

Hermione seemed to notice his slight stupor, for she asked, "Why are you looking at me like that, Harry?"

"What? Oh…um, it's nothing."

Hermione huffed as she said, "Harry, don't you think that I know you well enough that I can tell when you're not telling me the truth?"

Just as Harry was about to answer, a streak of blue lightning rocketed towards the ground, briefly lighting up the dark skies outside, as an explosive boom of thunder followed, shaking the castle's walls vigorously.

Harry fixated his gaze out of the still-open front doors, noticing that the heavy rain had created streams of running water that flowed down the slanting lawns of Hogwarts.

He turned to look back at Hermione, as she too, was staring out at the rain-soaked grounds.

Harry then thought to himself if he should tell Hermione of how he truly felt for her: that he liked her, plain and simple. Ever since the time they spent together hunting for horcruxes, they had grown closer together, which, in Harry's mind, was inevitable. But, thinking back again over how he felt when Hermione brushed her hand over his head that one winter morning, there was no mistake in Harry's feelings for his best friend.

Spending all of his time with Hermione over the past week further settled matters that Harry now shared romantic feelings for her.

After another bolt of lightning shot out from the black clouds that hung over Hogwarts, and another bout of thunder roared against the citadel's walls, Harry took a deep breath, as his heart started hammering wildly in his chest, and his palms started to gather sweat.

Hoping he wouldn't regret his next words, Harry started, "Hermione…"

* * *

Author's Note: This chapter definitely did not go in the direction I had initially planned, but hey, that's what happens sometimes. Things that I wanted to include in this chapter have shifted into Chapter 13, which by the way, will be posted TUESDAY MORNING. Thanks for reading.


	13. Twin Midnight Sonnets

Chapter 13: Twin Midnight Sonnets

As the rain had started to lighten its attack upon the grounds of Hogwarts castle, Hermione looked over expectantly at Harry when he didn't finish his thought.

"Yes Harry," she asked, a puzzled expression now fixed upon her face.

Harry gulped loudly and hesitated for a long moment while his thoughts spun a web of confusion within his mind, before he said, "Shall we go to the library then?"

For Hermione's part, Harry thought he saw disappointment crawl over her face briefly, before she gave him a small smile and said, "Yeah, let's go."

However, before they could start making their way to the library, Hermione put a hand over Harry's arm lightly, making him turn on the spot.

"What is it," he asked, his heart beating so wildly against his chest he was sure Hermione could hear it.

"I have to clean you off first," she answered, "you've got dirt all over your face from when you fell before."

"Oh…right," Harry said.

He faced Hermione directly as he stared into her eyes while she pointed her wand at his face and said, " _TERGEO_ ," as Harry instantly felt his face break clean. He repeated her actions, getting rid of the mud and dirt that she had masked upon her face, before the pair made their way past the stairs of the Entrance Hall, and walked down a long hallway towards the library.

Along the way, Harry inwardly berated himself, angry with the fact that he wasn't able to tell Hermione how he truly felt about her. How was it that Harry was able to walk to his supposed death when facing Voldemort back during the Battle of Hogwarts, yet he was unable to express his feelings for his best friend whom he had known since he was eleven years old? He wondered if he would ever be able to tell Hermione that he liked her.

As these wayward thoughts bombarded his mind, he barely noticed that Hermione had stopped in her tracks. He appeared at her side as the couple saw that the library door had been blasted apart, its broken remains lying upon the stone floor of the castle.

Harry gave Hermione a grave look before he moved forward and stepped over the threshold, as he turned his head sideways and said back to her, "Be careful."

Making his way into the library, Harry saw that it had been torn apart. One wall had been blown to smithereens, while the small-like chandeliers that hung from the ceiling had fallen, evidenced by the candles and golden rods that were scattered over the wooden floor. All but one bookshelf had remained standing, while a great number of books lie in wasteful piles. The desks that so many students occupied whilst completing their homework or studying for their next examination were gone, as splinters of sharp wood were seen lying about. Drops of rain also were falling into the vicinity, as the windows of the library were no more.

Harry heard a gasp of surprise behind him. He looked over to his side as Hermione walked up next to him and saw that she was now assessing the damage that had been done to a place she had taken refuge on many different occasions over her period of time at Hogwarts.

"Harry, this is awful," she said, grabbing his arm tightly.

"I know," he replied in a serious tone, nodding his head once. "But don't worry, we are going to fix it."

Hermione relinquished her hold over his arm as she walked forward, turning in a full circle to take in everything that had been done to the library.

"It's going to take a lot to fix this," she said softly. "I'm not even sure how to do some of the things that are required to make the library how it was before."

"We'll figure it out," Harry said, walking over to her, "let's just start with what we know."

Hermione nodded her head at him, as he noticed a determined gleam had seeped into her eyes.

"Okay, well first, I think we should repair the broken windows so we can stop the rain from ruining the books," she said, as she walked over to a gaping hole where a window had once sat. Pointing her wand down to the broken glass shards lying at her feet, Hermione said with intensity, " _REPARO_." Immediately, the glass shards flew up into the air and pieced themselves together, forming a repaired glass window.

Smiling to himself after seeing her work, Harry repeated her actions, as both he and Hermione went around, fixing all of the windows that they could. The silence that had descended upon the library was only broken by Harry or Hermione's incantation of, " _REPARO_."

As Harry fixed the final window, Harry saw that Hermione was waving her wand, sending all of the books flying over to one wall, as they stacked themselves neatly on top of one another.

"Hermione, what are you doing," Harry asked.

She turned towards him and said, "I think it's best if we repair the desks and the bookshelves before we place the books back where they belong."

As the final collection of books flew dangerously close towards Harry's head, so much so that he had to duck out of the way in order to avoid any contact with them, Hermione spun her wand in a complicated manner, as the desks started to restore themselves to its original state.

Harry watched Hermione work with both wonder and adoration in his eyes, seeing the motivation etched into her facial features while the desks and bookshelves started to return in the manner of how they were before.

"Harry, can you start placing the books back on the shelves that have already been repaired," Hermione called out from a few feet away.

"But I don't know where they all go," he called back.

"Just place them on the shelves for now," she replied, "and Madam Pince can fix them when she returns."

As Harry started to wave his wand to and fro, books flying around him, he asked loudly so that Hermione could hear him, "Where is Madam Pince?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, before falling silent, losing herself into her repair work.

And so they worked in this way, as Hermione went on, fixing every desk and bookshelf, while Harry followed behind, waving his wand for the books to place themselves on the newly-mended shelves. Even with magic at their disposal, because the library was so large, it took the two teenagers the better part of three hours to complete their work.

Once the last book was placed back on the final bookshelf, Harry looked around and saw that they had yet to replace the broken chandeliers. Also, he didn't have any idea how they were going to piece together the blown-apart wall, as he noticed colossal slabs of concrete lying about in a great, big rubble.

"Hermione, I think we should take a break for now," Harry said, wiping beads of sweat off of his forehead. However, after a moment, he noticed that she didn't respond.

"Hermione," he called out, turning his head to see if she was nearby him. When he didn't see her around, he started to look down the long rows of bookshelves Hermione had just repaired, yet she was nowhere to be found.

Confused, Harry kept on walking, looking all around him to see where Hermione had gone.

"Hermione," Harry yelled out again, as worry started to slither over the confines of his heart.

Harry ran back towards the front of the library, only to see that Hermione had sunk down against one wall, her face a ghostly pale.

"Hermione!" Harry ran over to her as she looked up at him, a weak smile traced upon her face.

"Hermione, what is it…what's wrong? Are you hurt," Harry asked in quick succession, as he knelt down beside her.

"It's my shoulder," she replied softly, "it's acting up."

"Your injured shoulder," Harry questioned seriously, his heart beating against his chest in concern.

She nodded her head in reply.

"We have to go to St. Mungo's," Harry said at once, making his way to stand to his feet.

"No, Harry, I'll be fine," Hermione responded, shaking her head from side to side.

"Hermione, Healer Jones said that whenever any of your injuries returned that you were to go back to St. Mungo's."

"Trust me, Harry, I'll live," she said.

"This isn't a debate, Hermione, I'm taking you to St. Mungo's," Harry said forcefully, as he scooped her up into his arms, with one arm holding her back and his other arm tucked under her legs.

"Harry, please," Hermione whispered. But suddenly, her head lolled against his chest as she passed out.

Alarm spiked through Harry, as he closed his eyes and disapparated them away from castle, leaving behind the Hogwarts library behind.

In the next instant, Harry apparated into St. Mungo's hospital, with Hermione still in his arms, as he ran up to the welcome desk, and said loudly, "I need to see Healer Jones, now!"

The welcome witch, who had her nose in a magazine, suddenly dropped what she was reading, obviously flustered and shocked by Harry's abrupt demand.

"He's up on flour four," she said cautiously, first noticing Hermione's fragile state before her eyes lingered upwards towards the lightning bolt-shaped scar on Harry's forehead.

Harry instantly darted away towards the lifts, as he awkwardly jammed the button calling for it. The doors of the lift opened instantly and he hastily made his way inside and pushed the '4' button.

"Stay with me, Hermione," Harry whispered, looking down at her, "please stay with me."

He noticed that her breathing was deeply uneven as she seemed to turn even paler than she was before.

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator doors opened as Harry shot out of it, running down the length of the empty fourth floor.

He ran past door after door, looking into each one for any sign of Healer Jones. As he turned a corner, he saw two healers conversing with each other, their gray curls peeking out from under the white healer caps they wore.

"I need to see Healer Jones," he yelled out suddenly, making the two healers turn towards him in a ruffled state.

After they rapidly assessed the scene before them, one healer raised her wand, making a bed appear out of thin air.

"Place her here," she said quickly. Harry did as he was told as he gently laid Hermione upon the hospital bed he had seen her in not even one week ago.

The healer that had conjured the hospital bed turned to her colleague and said, "Go get Healer Jones and tell him to come to room 524 straight away."

The two witches then departed from one another as Harry followed the healer that was pushing the bed Hermione's lifeless form now occupied.

"What happened to her," the healer asked Harry as they both entered into room 524.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, "we were helping with the repairs back at Hogwarts before I found her sitting against one wall. She fainted right before I brought her here."

"Does she have any injuries," the healer inquired.

"No, but she did. She was here a couple of days ago with head, shoulder, and arm injuries," Harry answered. "Is she going to be alright?"

The healer didn't answer him as he stared helplessly over at Hermione.

"Mr. Potter, what happened," a voice said from behind Harry. He turned to see Healer Jones striding towards him with a questioning look upon his face.

"It's Hermione," Harry started to reply, "we were helping with the repairs back at Hogwarts before I found her sitting against one wall…she had gone really pale and she then fainted."

Healer Jones nodded once before he took out his wand and waved it over Hermione's body in a slow manner.

"Hmmm," Healer Jones mused.

"What is it," Harry asked in a concerned voice.

"Relax, Mr. Potter, it is nothing life-threatening. Miss Granger here seems to have ignored my warnings for her to not take upon too much work for herself. She has exerted too much magic in a short amount of time in a way that her body responded critically against it."

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt his shoulders slump downward, as if a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

"So she'll be okay, right," Harry asked, trying to make sure of himself over Hermione's condition.

"Yes, as long as she doesn't use too much of her magic for another week. Mr. Potter, Miss Granger needs to heel. Her body took on a heavy toll when the two of you returned from Australia and it is quite clear that she has not been able to fully recuperate just yet," Healer Jones said. "Miss Granger should awake in a few moments in which she'll have to drink some more potions to regain her strength; I'll be right back."

With that, both healers left the room as Harry walked up to Hermione's bed and sat himself down upon the end of it, his panic beginning to subside. He looked down at Hermione as her eyes were still closed and her skin was still a sickly pale, as he grabbed her hand in his, and just sat there, staring down at her.

Once again, Harry heard the soft pitter-patter of rain beating softly against the room's window behind him. However, for some reason that he could not explain, Harry had found the sounds of rain quite comforting.

In the next minute, Hermione's eyes fluttered open, as she gazed upwards, as if trying to determine where she was. She looked to her left and right before she locked her sights onto Harry's form.

"Harry," she asked quietly, "why are we back in St. Mungo's?"

"Because you fainted," Harry answered, "back at Hogwarts."

"Fainted," she repeated, "how…why?"

"Healer Jones said that you used too much magic in a short amount of time. He said that you needed to rest."

Hermione sighed audibly as she rubbed her arm.

"Does your shoulder still hurt," Harry questioned, in which Hermione shook her head back and forth in answer.

Just then, Healer Jones entered back into the room. He looked down at Hermione and mildly chided, "Miss Granger, I thought I told you that you needed your rest the last time you left St. Mungo's?"

"I know," she replied with a guilty expression upon her face, "but it has nearly been a week since I left and I thought that everything would be fine."

"Well, it clearly isn't," Healer Jones remarked, "and you need to take these two potions," he said, showing her two glass vials. "Take this one first," he told her, handing her a potion that was a bright yellow, "I'm afraid the taste of that one is quite hard to get through."

Hermione grabbed the vial from him and downed the potion, as Harry visibly noticed that some color had returned to her face.

Hermione's hand covered her mouth as her face masked a mixture of disgust and revulsion.

Seeing this, Healer Jones said, "Yes, many of our patients have the same experience. This one tastes much better, though."

Hermione then took the second glass vial in which a bright pink potion rested. She titled the contents into her mouth, but this time, both pleasure and satisfaction slipped onto her face.

"How do you feel," Healer Jones asked.

"Much better," she answered.

"Great! Now, Miss Granger, again I must caution you: do not do too much work. You need a lot of rest over the next several days for you to fully heal. I know that Mr. Potter said that you were helping with the repairs back at Hogwarts but you must refrain from using too much of your magic. Is that understood?"

"Yes," she replied, somewhat put-out.

This did not go unnoticed by Healer Jones as he smiled down at her and said, "Don't fret too much…by next week, you should be able to help out at much as your heart desires."

With that, Healer Jones left the room, humming softly to himself.

Hermione turned to look at Harry as she said, "Harry, we need to go back to Hogwarts."

"Hermione, did you hear what Healer Jones told you?"

"I don't mean to work…I meant that we need to go back and tell McGonagall about how I can't help out for another week," Hermione replied.

"Okay," he agreed, "if you feel like you're up for it."

At this, Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Honestly, it's not like I'm injured! All I need is some time to rest!"

Harry smirked over at her slightly before they both got up from the hospital bed. Harry took her hand before they disapparated out of St. Mungo's and back to Hogwarts.

The pair appeared back in the castle's Entrance Hall to the sounds of falling rain that was heard from the still-open front doors of the citadel.

"Let's go," Harry said, as he started to make his way up the staircase, while his hand was still clasped with Hermione's.

As they walked down a vacant corridor, Hermione suddenly said, "It feels weird being here when no one else is."

Harry nodded his head as he replied, "Yeah, but I kind of like it. I always felt like people never stopped staring at me the whole time I was here."

"I remember that you hated all of the attention," Hermione responded.

"And I still do."

"You know, Harry, there's probably going to be many different requests for you from people to interview you, or to write a book about your journey in defeating Voldemort," Hermione mentioned.

"And when that moment comes, I'll turn each and every one of them down," Harry said confidentially, "I don't even want to think about those times that I faced him."

Harry saw Hermione nod her head out of the corner of his eye as they continued on towards the headmistress's office.

"You don't think you'll ever be able to talk about it, do you?"

"No," Harry replied, "there's too much there that I'm uncomfortable with and I don't think I'll ever be able to share it. But I'd imagine some people might try to get in touch with you or Ron."

"I don't know if I want to talk about it either," Hermione responded, "there's a lot that happened that I hope to never think about again."

"And what do you think about Ron?"

Hermione seemed to think over this for a few moments before she responded, "Ron might be a little tempted to give an interview. I told you back in fourth year that he seems somewhat forgotten with being best friends with you, along with having five older brothers and a younger sister to compete with. But it's his choice with whatever he decides to do."

However, before Harry could reply, a voice called out to them from behind, "Harry…Hermione?"

The pair turned on the spot, instantly letting go of each other's hands, as they saw that Neville had approached them with Luna at his side.

"Hey Neville, how are you," Harry asked, smiling.

"I'm great, Harry, and what about you," he questioned back.

"I'm fine," he replied, "and how about you Luna?"

"Oh, the Nargles how been stealing and hiding my father's shoes from him," she said in a dreamy, faraway voice, "I have to make him a Butterbeer cork necklace to keep them away."

As Harry could almost feel that Hermione was about to dispute her claim on the existence of Nargles radiating off of her, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it, trying to gesture to her wordlessly to let the tropic drop.

"And how about you, Hermione," Neville asked, "I saw you in St. Mungo's but you weren't exactly awake."

Hermione gave him a tight smile and responded, "I'm fine, Neville. We're just here to help out with the repairs."

"Yeah, so are we," Neville replied in an excited manner as he looked down at Luna, "we were just down in the greenhouses helping Professor Sprout."

"So then why are you up here, then," Harry asked, puzzled.

"We came to find you of course," Neville said. "Sprout said that McGonagall told her before that you two were helping out and were either in Gryffindor Tower, the library, or up on the seventh-floor corridor. Luna and I couldn't find you anywhere, so we were just going to go and tell McGonagall when we found you right outside her office!"

"What did you need to find us for," Hermione inquired.

"There's a small lunch that's being held in the Great Hall right now for those that are here helping with the repairs," Neville answered, "that's it."

"Neville, do you know how many people are here right now," Hermione asked him.

He shrugged his shoulders as he said, "I don't know exactly but I don't think it's that many."

Harry looked down at Hermione and asked with the expression on his if she wanted to go down to lunch. She shrugged her shoulders before nodding slightly as the four then started to make their way back down towards the Great Hall.

As Harry heard Luna tell Hermione that the Ministry of Magic was training an army of Heliopaths in preparation, just in case another dark wizard were to ever rise again, Neville engaged Harry in conversation.

"Harry, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, you can ask me whatever you'd like."

"Are you and Hermione dating," he questioned.

At this, Harry looked over at his fellow Gryffindor, his eyes wide, as he said back, "What would make you think that?"

"Well, you were holding her hand when Luna and I first found you, and you're holding hands with her now," he reasoned with Harry quietly.

Harry looked down at his and Hermione's clasped hands and shrugged indifferently.

"Oh, well, I guess that's how we are," Harry responded, "why?"

At this, Neville gave him an uncomfortable look and said in a low voice, "But what about Ginny?"

"What about her," Harry asked.

"Weren't the two of you dating and all?"

"We were, but I broke up with her at the end of sixth year, right after Dumbledore's funeral," Harry answered in an even tone.

As Neville nodded his head, the four then walked down the stairs and into the Entrance Hall, before entering into the Great Hall, where Harry saw that a small table had been conjured, in which Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Slughorn, and Trelawney were situated around, along with the caretaker, Filch, who was eyeing George Weasley evilly, as he, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson sat nearby.

"Ah, there you are," McGonagall said, looking over at Harry, Hermione, Neville, and Luna, "come in, and take a seat! We're just about to have a spot of lunch!"

When the four students sat down at the small table covered in a wide array of foods, Hermione released Harry's hand as they sat down next to each other, before they all started eating.

As the conversation started building among the occupants sitting around the table, Hermione turned to McGonagall, with whom she was sitting next to, and said in a low voice, "Headmistress, I, um, I have something to tell you."

"What is it, Miss Granger," McGonagall asked kindly.

"I'm afraid that I can't help around Hogwarts too much over the next week," Hermione said.

McGonagall looked over at her best student, surprised, as she inquired, "May I ask why not?"

"Well, you see," Hermione started, as Harry noticed that her cheeks were burning a deep red, "I sort of, fainted, before while working in the library with Harry."

"You…fainted," the headmistress asked in disbelief.

"Yes, and Harry took me to St. Mungo's. In fact, we just returned."

"And how do you feel right now," McGonagall questioned in a concerned voice.

"I'm better, but the healer back at St. Mungo's told me that I used too much of my magic in a short amount of time," Hermione explained, "and he told me that I needed a lot of rest over the next week."

McGonagall seemed to regard her statement as she then expressed, "Yes, well, I have heard many instances in which witches and wizards have felt depleted of their magic after experiencing some traumatic event. Don't worry, Miss Granger, I am sure that we are all trying to overcome what happened during the war."

As the headmistress started to then converse with Professor Sprout, Harry leaned over and asked Hermione, "Do you think McGonagall knows what happened down in Australia to us?"

Hermione looked at him, before shaking her head slightly as she said, "I don't think so, but I'm not sure."

However, before he could say anything else, Professor Trelawney suddenly banged her fists upon the table in a showy fashion, sending goblets toppling over, while cutlery clattered loudly onto the stone floor.

All eyes were trained on the Divination professor as she seemed to chanting in a foreign tongue while Harry thought she was in some kind of trance.

"The Inner Eye never deceives me," she cried out loudly, "oh yes, something is approaching…something is coming!"

"Really, Sybill, must you do this now," McGonagall asked in an irritated voice, "it's barely been a week since the war ended."

However, Professor Trelawney seemed to not have heard or was just ignoring her, before she yelled out in a mythical voice, "The woman who deceives will arise and the raven will fly once more! The inner eye speaks again!"

McGonagall seemed annoyed as she said while rolling her eyes, "Oh enough of this foolishness! We are not here for you to chant some silly little superstitions at us, as we are all trying to deal with the aftermaths of the war."

Professor Trelawney seemed to snap out of her trance rather abruptly as she leveled McGonagall with a cold look and said in a voice which had lost its mistiness, "You know, Minerva, something tells me that you were never appreciative of the Inner Eye, which I daresay is something you have never possessed."

"How can I possess something that doesn't exist," McGonagall said shortly.

"Well I'm afraid to disappoint you but the Inner Eye does indeed exist! However, it is well known that individuals who are quite prideful reject any trace of what the Inner Eye is based upon!"

"I can't imagine why," Harry heard McGonagall mumble, in which Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.

The rest of the lunch continued on, even though Harry continually heard Professor Trelawney spew out phrases such as, "Inner Eye doesn't exist!", and "Silly superstitions!"

After lunch had ended, McGonagall turned to Hermione and said to her, ignoring the fact that Professor Trelawney kept tripping over her over-long shawls as she exited the Great Hall, "Miss Granger, please don't over exert yourself in helping with the repairs of Hogwarts. More help will arrive over the next few days, mind you."

After Hermione nodded, she replied, "Headmistress, back in the library, there was one wall that was completely torn down. Harry and I didn't exactly know how to put it back together."

McGonagall nodded her head as she said back, "Not to worry, I'll repair it with Professor Flitwick later today."

After McGonagall stood to her feet and left, Harry and Hermione were approached by Neville and Luna.

"We're going to go back to the greenhouses," Neville said, "we still have a lot of work to do there."

Harry nodded once in understanding as Hermione asked, "Will you two be here all week? Perhaps we could work together?"

"That'd be great," Neville exclaimed with a wide smile on his face. "I know that George, Katie, and Angelina are working down on the Quidditch Pitch, but we can definitely take care of the seventh floor corridor, or any other part of the castle that needs repair."

"How about you, Luna," Hermione asked next.

"Yes, I'll be here as well," she replied in a dreamy voice, "like I said before, the Nargles have been stealing father's shoes and I don't them to steal mine too."

An awkward silence fell upon the group at her words before Neville turned to Luna and said, "Well, I guess we should get back. See you around Harry and Hermione!"

The pair waved their good-bye's before Harry turned to Hermione and offered, "Hermione, do you want to go back to Godric's Hollow so that you can rest? I can take you back."

"Harry, I think we should at least go back to the library and fix the chandeliers," Hermione suggested.

"Hermione, did you not hear what Healer Jones told you? You aren't supposed to be using too much magic," Harry replied.

"Honestly, Harry, I don't think it'll require too much effort," she said, standing to her feet.

Harry did the same as he glared at Hermione and responded, "I'm not letting you do any more, Hermione…at least not today. You need your rest."

"Harry, all I'm going to do is hang the chandeliers again in the library…it's not that big of a deal."

"Yes, it is, Hermione! Did you forget that you passed out only a few hours ago?"

"Of course I remember being in St. Mungo's and all, but I'm going to re-hang those chandeliers," she told him firmly, with a note of finality in her voice.

"Why are you so stubborn," Harry sighed, whilst fixing her with a cold look.

"I could ask you the same thing," she shot back.

"Hermione, I'm looking out for your well-being! I don't want you to get hurt!"

Hermione opened her mouth but paused after hearing Harry's last statement. Slowly, her shoulders slumped forward in defeat, as she knew Harry was right.

"I just want to help," she said in a small voice.

Harry gulped loudly before he replied, "And you have been a big help. Hermione, you fixed up the library nearly all by yourself. You've already done a lot."

As she nodded over at him without a smile, an idea popped into Harry's head.

"How about we go back to the library and I'll replace the chandeliers," Harry suggested.

"That sounds good," Hermione said after a quiet moment, "but you have to let me at least repair one of them."

Harry rolled his eyes at his best friend before they started laughing at each other.

"Let's go," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand as he tugged her out of the Great Hall. However, before they could proceed to the library, Professor Slughorn stopped them in their tracks.

"Harry, m'boy, how wonderful it is to see you!"

"Hello Professor Slughorn," Harry replied politely.

"Oh, Harry, enough with his 'professor' business as I'm sure you are headed for a spectacular career as an auror! I did see you take out a few Death Eaters here and there, during the final battle, and I must say that you are just as gifted in dueling as you are in Potions!"

Harry didn't quite know how to respond to that comment so he just nodded his head once in understanding.

Slughorn then turned his attention to Harry and Hermione's clasped hands. He beamed with pride as he then remarked, "Well, I can see that the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, then! You know, it's quite entertaining to see how much you resemble your father, Harry."

And with that, the Potions master walked away, leaving behind a bewildered Harry and Hermione.

"What did he mean by that," Hermione asked, looking over at Harry.

"I'm not sure," he responded quickly, feeling his face burn, as he tugged Hermione again, towards the library.

Quite frankly, Harry thought that Slughorn was referring to how much Harry resembled his father through the fact of how much Hermione resembled Lily in Slughorn's eyes: both were Muggle-born and both were brilliant at Potions.

The pair walked back into the library, which they noticed, was in the exact same state as it was in when they left it before.

At once, Harry got to work, walked around the entire library, repairing and replacing the chandeliers upon the ceiling from which it came, with Hermione by his side. They mainly worked in silence, with Hermione giving Harry a pointer or too every couple of minutes.

Finally, reaching the final light fixture they were to replace, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Are you sure you feel able to do this?"

She nodded her head at him as he then stepped back, while Hermione pointed her wand and the broken remains. Swishing her wand, the light fixture was immediately repaired. Then, she waved her wand in a complicated motion before the chandelier flew upwards and erected itself from the ceiling.

"Brilliant," Harry exclaimed, smiling at Hermione, who smiled at him in return.

"One more thing," Hermione said. After Harry gave her a quizzical look, she turned around and marched towards the front of the library. She pointed her wand at the broken remains of the front door and said, " _REPARO_." Instantly, the front door of the library repaired itself.

A moment later, Harry walked up to Hermione and asked, "So now that that's finished, do you think you're ready to go back to Godric's Hollow?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she asked, "You still think I need my rest, don't you?"

"Yes, I do, actually," he responded shortly.

Hermione sighed and said, "Fine…we'll go back."

With her words, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and disapparated them out of Hogwarts, and back towards Godric's Hollow.

The pair appeared in the foyer of Potter's Cottage, only to hear that an owl was pecking at one of the windows in the living room.

Somewhat confused, Harry waved his wand for the window to open, before the owl flew in and dropped a letter down upon the two teenagers.

Harry caught it in his hand while the owl flew away. Harry opened it as Hermione asked, "Who's it from?"

"It's from Mr. Weasley," Harry replied. He held the letter between the two of them as they both read:

 _Harry and Hermione,_

 _After we met earlier today, my team of aurors was led to a grisly scene in which I feel you must be informed of. Harry, as you know, before you left Private Drive for the final time, your aunt, uncle, and cousin were placed in the care of Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones. During the war, they went into hiding with your family to keep them safe, yet after the war had ended, I lost contact with them both._

 _It is quite unsettling to tell you now that both Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones have both been found dead, with their eyes gone. There is obviously a strong connection here with the woman you brought back with you from Australia, as her eyes were missing as well, when we found her dead in her cell in Azkaban. I'm continuing my efforts to get to the bottom of this case, but unfortunately, I have come to the realization that this case is dark…very dark indeed. I will keep you both updated on what I can find._

 _Please stay safe._

 _Arthur Weasley,  
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

Harry looked over at Hermione who was gazing at him uneasily.

"Harry, what could this mean," she asked softly, grabbing his arm lightly.

"I dunno," he responded, as he too, was perplexed at this new information he had been given.

As his eyes wandered back over Mr. Weasley's letter, he briefly remembered both Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones, as they both seemed rather keen on the idea of keeping the Dursleys safe from harm.

"I'm starting to get worried, Harry," Hermione whispered.

Harry looked down at her before he wrapped arm over her shoulders and pulled her against his chest.

"Listen to me, Hermione: I'll always be here for you. You have nothing to be scared of," he told her softly, "I'll protect you from anything."

He felt Hermione nod her head against his chest as she replied, "I know…but that's what scares me."

Hermione turned her head upwards and peered into Harry's eyes.

"What do you mean," he asked her, still holding her close to him.

"Harry, you know that you always had this saving-people thing about you, but I don't want you to get hurt," she reasoned, "I've seen you hurt far too many times than I can count. I just want us to be safe."

"We will," Harry reassured her, "we will."

After a quick dinner later that night, Harry and Hermione got ready for bed. Harry climbed the stairs and as he passed by Hermione's room, he noticed something that stopped him in his tracks.

Leaning against her doorway, Harry asked with his eyebrows pulled together, "You still have the stuffed toys I gave you?" He saw that they were resting against one of her pillows, acting like a trio of guardian angels to protect Hermione throughout the night.

Hermione turned to look at him as she responded, "Of course, Harry. Did you think that I wanted them just to throw them away?"

He shrugged his shoulders in response as he replied, "I was just curious."

"I like them," she told him honestly, "that's all."

Harry nodded before he started to make his way towards his own room. However, remembering back a couple of nights ago, he stopped once again and turned towards Hermione's room. He saw that she had climbed between her sheets as she fluffed out her pillows.

"And Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You won't put up silencing charms tonight, will you?"

When she hesitated for a moment, Harry sighed audibly, before glaring over at her.

"Please, don't," Harry stated simply. "Why would you want to do that to yourself?"

"Because I don't want you to see me like that," Hermione responded.

"To see you like what," Harry asked, stepping into her room.

"I don't know, Harry…to see me screaming and having nightmares about my parents…I don't like it and I just don't want you to see that."

"Hermione, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. You know that I have nightmares almost every night. I don't think I'll ever be able to get rid of 'em."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said after a moment, "I completely forgot about the ones you had."

"Don't worry about it," Harry replied, shaking his head back and forth, "but just promise me that you won't put up silencing charms."

After a long moment, Hermione began nodding her head, as she agreed, "Okay, I promise."

Harry nodded his own head once before he said, "Okay, good…well…I, uh, well I guess I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Hermione."

Harry then closed the door to Hermione's room before he entered into his own bedroom. He changed into his pajamas, which was composed of a plain, white shirt and midnight blue bottoms that reached his ankles, after he gazed out at yellow glow of the streetlights that shone brightly upon the empty, quiet streets of Godric's Hollow. Even though the rain had stopped, puddles were still lying about randomly in parts of the wide lane.

He then walked over to his bed, as he took off his glasses and set it upon his bedside table, right next to his wand. He pulled the covers of his bed back and tucked into them after he turned off the lights, plunging his room into darkness.

After the day's events, Harry found himself to be exhausted of his energy. Breathing in deeply, he shut his eyes, as he instantly drifted off to sleep.

He notcied that he was in a dark place, trapped, actually, with Ron beside him. Also, Luna Lovegood was there, along with the wandmaker, Ollivander, fellow Gryffindor, Dean Thomas, and the goblin, Griphook. Harry was staring up as three orbs of light were hanging strangely in mid-air. A blood-curling scream was heard from up above him, as he noticed that that scream belonged to Hermione.

"We can't leave Hermione up there with her," Ron exclaimed, his eyes wild.

"Who is Hermione up there with," Harry asked Ron in a hurried manner, while Luna, Ollivander, Dean, and Griphook stood nearby.

"She's up there with Bellatrix!"

Not a second after Ron's revelation, Hermione screamed loudly again…and she screamed again….and again.

"YOU DIRTY LITTLE MUDBLOOD! TELL ME! TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE TAKEN FROM MY VAULT!" The wicked voice of Bellatrix Lestrange was beyond cruel…it was brutal.

" _CRUCIO_!"

Hermione's screams flooded the cellar Harry, Ron, Luna, Ollivander, Dean, and Griphook was trapped in, as he felt as if his heart was being slowly shred into pieces. Her cries made him feel numb with fright, as he started shaking uncontrollably. But for some reason, he couldn't move.

"YOU FILTHY MUDBLOOD! WHAT DID YOU TAKE? TELL ME WHAT YOU HAVE TAKEN OR I SWEAR I'LL RUN YOU THROUGH WITH MY KNIFE!"

"Please," Hermione sobbed, as Harry helplessly stood, rooted to the spot, his heart hammering wildly against his chest, "we didn't take anything…please, we didn't take anything."

"I don't believe you," came Bellatrix's unforgiving voice. " _CRUCIO_!"

Hermione's screams pierced the air, as she was being tortured beyond repair again.

"HERMIONE," Harry shouted loudly, "HERMIONE!"

Her yells, however, drowned out Harry's yells.

There was silence for a moment before Harry heard Bellatrix say, "This Mudblood is of no use to me…Greyback, take her if you want."

A low growl was heard that ran up Harry's spine, paralyzing him.

"Please," Harry heard her, barely even recognizing Hermione's voice, as she cried once again "please."

Greyback gave a might howl before Harry heard Hermione gasp in merciless pain, "Oh!"

"HERMIONE!"

Harry sat up in his bed, covered in sweat, as his heart was beating painfully against his chest. His breathing was deeply uneven as tears streamed down his face. He gulped loudly before he heard in the next room over, "Please…not my parents…take me instead!"

"Hermione," Harry whispered with urgency, as he threw off the covers of his bed, grabbing his glasses and his wand before his sheets could even hit the ground.

He yanked open the door of his bedroom before he hurriedly ran into Hermione's. She was thrashing around, tangled between her bed sheets, as sweat and tears were streaming down her face.

"Please…take me instead! Don't hurt my mum!"

Harry ran over to her, as he grabbed her wrists forcefully, and yelled, "Hermione! Wake up!"

However, she seemed not to have heard him as then cried out, "No Harry…please, please come back!"

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up!"

Hermione suddenly stopped moving as her eyes flashed open. Seeing Harry, she sobbed loudly before she wrapped her arms around his sweaty shoulders, and pulled him close to her.

"Oh, Harry! I thought I'd lost you," she wept into his shoulder, "I thought you were gone."

Harry wrapped his arms around her back and held onto her fiercely. Just moments ago, he had thought Hermione had died at the hands of the savagery of Greyback, as his heart was still beating out of time…out of rhythm.

He couldn't find any words of comfort to say to Hermione as he just clung onto her and she to him, as if they were each other's last lifelines.

Harry could feel Hermione trembling against his body as he continued to hang on to her. Even though she didn't know it, Harry was also trying to calm himself down over what he just dreamt about.

After Harry began to recover, he whispered, "Let's go downstairs; I'll make us a cup of tea, alright?"

Hermione nodded her head before Harry scooped her into his arms, with one arm hooked behind her knees while his other arm supported her sweaty back, as he made his way out of the room and he carefully carried her down the stairs.

He noticed that Hermione was clinging onto his shirt, as if she was scared that he would disappear from her at any given moment.

Harry carried Hermione into the dark living room as he gently laid her down upon one of the couches as he said, "I'll be in the kitchen, I won't be too far away, okay?"

He looked down at her as she nodded her head again as he pulled himself away from her, walking into the kitchen, and turning on its lights.

Although he was just mere feet away from Hermione, he felt that their distance was too far from one another. He wanted to be next to her, at this very moment, he thought, as he poured water into a silver kettle, and set it on the stove to boil.

Harry placed his hands on the counter and tucked his head down towards his chest. He focused solely on breathing in and breathing out. However, the images he had seen in his nightmare kept flashing through his head; he tried to think of anything else but he was helpless to do so.

His hands were still shaking…in fact, he noticed that his entire body was trembling. His skin started to prickle as he suddenly felt cold, very cold, on this warm, summer night.

The kettle then screamed about, piercing the still air, making Harry jump. Taking two glass mugs down from a cabinet, Harry prepared the tea before he brought them into the darkened living room, where Hermione sat on one of the couches, with her knees tucked up against her chest.

"Thank you," she whispered solemnly, taking the steaming mug Harry handed to her, as he sat down next to her.

He didn't reply as they both took small sips, as Harry let the piping hot tea travel down this throat.

Harry stared down at his mug he held between his two hands for a long while, lost deep inside it. With all of his might, Harry could not get rid of Hermione's screams that had penetrated feelings and emotions deep inside of him that he was unaware he had. Then, hearing Greyback's low growl, and his howl, before he…Harry shook his head back and forth, trying to force himself to think of something different.

"You had one too, didn't you," Hermione asked slowly, "a nightmare, I mean."

Harry looked over at her with searing intensity, though he didn't mean to do so.

"Yes," he replied after a long minute, "I did."

"What was yours about, Harry?"

He sighed loudly as he turned away from Hermione and said bitterly, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Harry, it isn't good to keep these things to yourself," Hermione started.

"Just forget about it, Hermione."

"But Harry-,"

"Hermione, I said drop it! I don't want to talk about it!" He didn't mean to yell at her but so many different emotions were bubbling inside of him as they started to surface.

Harry saw that Hermione set her mug down on the table before them as she moved closer to Harry and said quietly, "It was about me, wasn't it?"

Harry repeated her actions by setting his own tea down upon the table, before he looked down at her and replied in a whisper, "Yes, it was about you, Hermione."

"Harry, I know you don't want to but you can't keep this inside yourself."

"I don't think you'd even want to hear about it," Harry muttered, "it wasn't anything good."

Hermione sighed slightly before she grabbed Harry's right hand in hers, effectively sandwiching it between her two soft hands.

"I'm here for you, Harry," she stated simply, "and I always will be."

"Are you sure about this," Harry asked, gazing into her brown eyes.

She nodded her head at him in answer.

"It was when we were at Malfoy Manor," Harry started, looking before him as he was unable to look into his best friend's eyes, "you were being tortured and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Me, Ron, Luna, Ollivander, and Griphook were all locked down in the cellar, while Bellatrix kept torturing you up above. Then Greyback…," Harry paused as the sickening sounds rushed into his ears again, like an insurmountable tidal wave.

"What, Harry?"

"He killed you."

For her part, Hermione didn't gasp nor did she rip her hand away from Harry's, like he thought she would. She remained still, and quite calm.

"Remember, Harry, it was just a dream," she said.

"Except that it wasn't, Hermione," Harry replied angrily, tearing his hand out of Hermione's before he stood to his feet, and walked in front of the fireplace.

"You were tortured, by Bellatrix, at Malfoy Manor. I can never put into words how I felt for you…how I feared for you. I get sick to stomach just even thinking about it, Hermione. I thought you were going to die there, in that terrible place, and I wasn't able to do anything to prevent it."

Hermione sniffed lightly before she too stood to her feet and walked up to Harry.

"Harry listen to me: even though it hurts to think of what happened that night, we survived! We all survived! Yes, it was scary and terrible, and I didn't know what would happen to any of us, but we made it out of Malfoy Manor alive. Greyback never touched me, Harry! You, Ron, and Dobby saved me that night and I'll never forget that."

"It just felt so real," Harry said softly to Hermione, in the darkness of the living room.

"But it wasn't, Harry," she said, "it wasn't,"

"I'd thought I lost you."

Hermione looked up at him as she seemed to be suddenly overcome in immense despair.

"That's what my nightmare was about," she said quietly.

Harry looked down at her, urging for her to go on.

"It was the same dream that I've been having for a while, about my parents. But this time, at the end of my nightmare, you were gone."

"Gone," Harry asked, not understanding.

"You left me because you blamed yourself for my parents' deaths. We were in the backyard after you killed that man, and you just disapparated and left me alone," Hermione continued, "and I felt so…cold inside, heartbroken that you left me." A lone tear shot down Hermione's cheek but Harry wiped it away.

"I'm not going to leave you, Hermione…I never will," he repeated from times before.

"I know," she nodded slightly, "it's just what happened in my dream. Like yours, mine felt so vivid and so real."

She paused before saying, "I had hoped that my dreams of my mum and dad would go away over time but it seems like they are getting stronger."

"I know what you mean," Harry said. "I just wish I never have a nightmare like that again."

Harry then looked down at Hermione and instantly, he felt trapped…trapped by the look that was pouring out of her eyes. He didn't know what it was but he was spellbound. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to pull himself away from Hermione, as he vaguely noticed that they were gradually moving closer towards each other. They were entranced by each other's pain, as each wished they could rid it from the other.

Harry tenderly placed both of his hands on Hermione's waist as she gently placed her hands on his shoulders. To Harry, this felt so…normal that he couldn't believe he hadn't done this before.

They were inches away from each other, as Harry paused. He knew that whatever happened in the next couple of seconds would change everything, but right now, his head and his heart were beating to the same rhythm.

Ever so slowly, Harry leaned his head down, closing the small gap that existed between him and Hermione.

Their lips met as a sudden rush of passion invaded Harry's body. He never felt so much desire for someone before as he did for Hermione at that moment; noting in the world was comparable.

Harry and Hermione's lips affectionately moved against one another, as Harry moved his hands over Hermione's lower back and pressed her against him, as he wanted to feel her against his body.

Hermione entwined her arms around Harry's shoulders as one of her hands brushed the back of Harry's head in such a loving manner that Harry couldn't help but emit a low groan.

As their lips continued to move against each other, Harry's heart continued to burst over and over with emotional fervor, as he was not intent on letting Hermione go any time soon; a soft rain started to fall.

* * *

Author's Note: Finally! At over 100,000 words, yes, Harry and Hermione have finally kissed. The ramifications will be explained in the next chapter, which will be posted FRIDAY MORNING! Thanks for reading.


	14. The Canis Lupus

Chapter 14: The Canis Lupus

Harry woke up with a smile on his face. For a moment, he didn't understand why until the memories of last night came rushing into his head. He grabbed his glasses with one hand and put them on his face while he turned his head to look over to his right. He stared at Hermione's sleeping form with a blazing intensity as if he was trying to pour out all of his emotions he felt for her in one look, yearning for her to feel what he felt, even though Hermione was still fast asleep. Seeing that her hand was clasped within his, Harry's smile grew even wider, as he had guessed that sometime during the night, Hermione had placed her hand in his.

Hermione was lying on a mattress next to Harry's, as they both decided that they would rather sleep in the living room of Potter's Cottage, on two separate mattresses, than go back upstairs to their separate rooms.

Harry noticed how soft Hermione's hand was against his, as he slowly and carefully started to rub his thumb in small circles against it, as to not wake her. She didn't stir, as he had surmised that she was in a rather deep slumber. Harry continued to look over at Hermione, thinking to himself how he liked to watch her sleep. Her breathing was even as part of her brown hair cascaded over her shoulder. He also saw that Hermione's three stuffed toys rested between them, as if the inanimate objects felt safe between their two bodies.

Harry looked back up at the ceiling of the living room, thinking about how last night had changed everything between them. His mind glazed over what had transpired after their first kiss the previous evening.

* * *

Harry and Hermione slowly pulled away from each other, though the only reason Harry did so was because of his need for air, as he looked over at Hermione who still had her eyes closed. His breathing was shallow, as he gulped loudly, wondering what thoughts were racing through her mind.

His hands were still caressing her lower back while her arms were still interlinked around his shoulders, as the couple was framed against the bright light of the kitchen, while they stood under the dark shadows the living room offered them.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes and looked up at Harry. He felt himself get lost within her beautiful irises as if he had fallen into a deep maze, intricate yet inviting.

They both breathed out in short breaths, as they were both startled and surprised by how much they had liked their first kiss they shared with each other.

"Harry, what did we just do," Hermione asked quietly, as she unhooked her arms off of his shoulders and instead, wrapped them around herself. Although he didn't admit it out loud, we was quite disappointed that she had taken her arms off of his shoulders.

In turn, he removed his hands off of her back as he replied, his cheeks flushing a dark red, "Oh, um, I'm sorry…I-I dunno what I was thinking."

Feeling his heart sink like a stone in water, he walked away from her and made his back over to the couch he and Hermione had occupied minutes before, as he grabbed his mug of tea, which had since turned quite cold, and drank from it, taking a seat. For her part, Hermione did not move away from the fireplace the pair had stood in front of, but she did turn her head to look over at Harry.

Sensing her eyes upon him, Harry gulped and suggested with consternation, "Let's just forget that ever happened."

In the darkness of the living room, Hermione whispered, "What if I don't want to forget it ever happened?"

Surprised, Harry turned to fix his gaze on Hermione, as she stared at him with raw emotion, a look that was so pure yet impassioned.

"What," was all Harry could utter.

"Well…I-I mean, of course, that's only if you feel the same way," she stammered, blushing uncontrollably.

Harry set his tea mug back down upon the table before him and stood to his feet once again. He slowly made his way over to Hermione and rested his hands upon her arms in a soft manner.

When he saw that she avoided making any eye contact with him, Harry inwardly sighed and requested in a calm tone, "Hermione, please look at me."

When she did so, Harry stated simply, "I don't want what we have between us to change."

"What do you mean," she asked back.

"I told you before: I enjoy spending my time with you, Hermione. I thought that if I survived after the final battle that I would be celebrating that the war had finally come to an end. But I didn't want to celebrate at all, and you know that. I felt guilty and I felt like my life had literally fallen apart. But being with you changed all that, not at first, but over time…over this past week that we spent with each other. What I'm trying to say is that I'm just worried that I'll lose you."

"You aren't going to lose me, Harry. I had hoped you would have figured that out by now. We've been through too much together," she replied in sincere honesty.

"I know, I know we have. I want to keep you safe, Hermione, and I want to always be there for you…to be there with you. But I carry so much baggage around that I-,"

"And you don't think I don't," Hermione intervened. "Harry, we all have something weighing us down, making us see ourselves as unworthy for another person we care so much about, but that doesn't mean it's true."

"Maybe," Harry said thoughtfully, "and maybe not."

After a brief bout of silence ensued, Hermione then asked softly, "Do you regret it?"

Harry looked down at her in confusion, with his eyebrows pulled together.

Seeing this, Hermione rolled her eyes playfully before she looked down at her feet and rephrased in light mortification, "Do you regret kissing me?"

"No, I don't regret it at all," Harry answered after a moment, with complete and total candor.

Hermione's eyes shot up and locked with his.

"Really," she inquired.

Harry nodded his head in confirmation as slow smiles started to break across both of their faces.

Ever so unhurriedly, Harry moved his hands up to lightly stroke both of Hermione's cheeks as he leaned towards her again, while she titled her head upwards.

Their lips met for a second time, while Hermione stroked Harry's back in a passionate manner. Hermione lightly pulled away, much to Harry's chagrin, before he kissed her on the lips one final time.

"As much as I want to stay up all night with you, Harry, we both need our sleep," she said with a small grin.

"Er…right," he replied, rallying against his heart-pounding emotional collision, "yeah, that would probably be for the best, wouldn't it?"

Harry turned around, heading for the stairs, when Hermione held him back, clutching onto his wrist softly.

He looked back at her, wondering, and slightly hoping, if she was going to pull him into another kiss, when she asked, "Harry, do you think we can sleep down here for the night. I don't fancy going back up there."

By her tone of voice, he realized that she was afraid that her nightmares would return if she went back up to her room to sleep.

"Yeah, sure," Harry replied, grabbing hold of his wand.

Hermione bent down and grabbed both of their mugs as she said, "Here, I'll put these away."

As she left, Harry moved the table over to the side as he waved his wand and conjured two mattresses. He flicked his wand again as two sets of sheets unfurled over their beds and four pillows appeared, with two floating down in his mattress, as the other two glided over onto Hermione's.

Harry looked down at his production in satisfaction, before an idea popped into his head. Before Hermione returned from the kitchen, Harry ran out of the living and bolted up the stairs. He entered into Hermione's room quickly, as he pointed his wand at the three stuffed toys and said, " _ACCIO_." The dog, mooncalf, and owl soared into his hand as Harry extinguished the light in Hermione's room, before he headed back down the stairs.

As he entered into the living room, Hermione was already waiting for him.

"Here, I got these guys for you," Harry said, nodding down towards the stuffed animals he held in his hands.

"What did you get them for," Hermione asked, though he noticed there was trace of amusement in her voice.

He shrugged his shoulders as he answered, "They're going to help me."

"Help you with what exactly?"

"In keeping you safe throughout the night," Harry responded lightly, as he now felt extremely relaxed around her, more so than he ever did before.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock exasperation, as she then nodded her head over for him to join her.

Hermione laid down on one mattress while Harry took the other. He set the stuffed toys between them before he waved his wand over towards the kitchen, putting out its light. He then took off his glasses as he set them upon the table nearby and placed his wand next to it.

The couple heard the rain beat softly against the living room's windows as they both felt they were stranded in a peaceful setting, though Harry and Hermione didn't have a care in the world at this precise moment in time.

"Good night, Harry," Hermione's voice came from out of the darkness beside him.

Harry reached up and grabbed his wand again, before he muttered, " _LUMOS_."

Instantly, his wand tip ignited. Mustering his Gryffindor courage, Harry looked down at Hermione before he leaned over, and planted a soft kiss against her lips. She initially gasped in surprise, but welcomed it nonetheless. He pulled away before he leaned back down and quickly kissed her again.

Feeling as if he could float within the air, Harry laid his head back upon his pillows with a giant smiled on his face.

He then whispered softly, " _NOX_."

* * *

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Hermione had started to stir next to him. She subconsciously squeezed his hand, as he squeezed back. When he did so, her eyes popped open, as she was clearly startled by his touch.

However, when her eyes found his, she smiled warmly as she said, "Good morning, Harry."

"'Morning," he replied back, grinning over at her.

As the two stared at each other for a long moment, Hermione broke the silence as she asked in a quiet manner, "Did last night really happen," almost as if she expected it to be part of a dream.

"I hope so," Harry answered her, "because it was one of the greatest nights of my life."

"Oh, Harry, I don't think that it was one of the greatest nights of your life. I'm sure you've had better ones before," Hermione replied.

"Well I can't think of too many," he replied honestly, looking over at her, "I don't think you know how much you mean to me exactly."

"We mean a lot to each other," Hermione responded with a smile.

"How did you sleep," Harry asked her.

"Great," she replied, "I didn't have any more nightmares."

"I guess these guys protected you from it," Harry said, looking down at the three stuffed toys between them with pride.

"Oh you are so silly, Harry," Hermione relayed softly to him.

"Maybe, but you know it's the truth."

After Hermione laughed lightly, she questioned him, "And how did you sleep?"

"The same as you…no nightmares at all."

"That's great," Hermione replied happily. After a moment, Hermione then suggested, "Listen, while I get a breakfast going for the two of us, do you mind cleaning up in here?"

"Sure," Harry replied, as Hermione nodded once.

However, before she could get up from her mattress, Harry lightly grabbed holder of her arm and rolled her towards him. Before she could say anything, Harry placed a small kiss against her lips.

Leaving her rather flustered, Harry smiled as he got up from his mattress and stretched his arms over his head.

Hermione got up from her mattress, with Harry noticing that she had a wide smile upon her face in which she was trying to hide, as she walked into the kitchen.

Harry bent down and grabbed the dog, mooncalf, and owl and held them in his arms, while he whisked his wand, making the two mattresses, sheets, and pillows disappear. Next, he walked up the stairs and entered back into Hermione's room and placed the stuffed toys back on her bed.

"Nice job guys," he whispered, looking down at the three soulless animals, proud of the fact that they had protected Hermione throughout the night.

Harry walked out of Hermione's room and into the bathroom. After he shut the lavatory door behind him, he looked at himself in the mirror, and that was when he realized that he couldn't stop smiling. Nothing came to mind that could wipe the happiness off of his face or knock it out of his heart…it was just too strong.

Harry didn't know what would happen next between he and Hermione, but what he did know, was that he was never going to let Hermione go…she meant too much to him now as his heart swelled with immense joy whenever he thought back upon each time they kissed. It was so tender and gentle, and yet it was also full of incredible emotion and feeling that Harry had never felt before.

His first kiss with Cho was rather wet from he remembered of it, while Ginny practically mobbed her lips against his, void of any passion or affection, which rendered her kisses somewhat forgettable.

Harry then splashed a cold bout of water against his face, just to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. As he wiped away the cold droplets of water off of his cheeks, he smiled once more before exiting the bathroom and making his way down the stairs.

He entered into the kitchen and saw that Hermione's wand was chopping up a wide assortment of fruits as the table had already been set with plates, cups, along with forks and knives.

"You can take a seat, Harry, I'm nearly done," Hermione called out, when she noticed that he had entered into the kitchen.

"You sure you don't need help with anything?"

"No, no, I'm fine, really," she replied, pointing her wand over towards the kitchen table where Harry had settled himself down.

A large bowl of fruit landed on the table in front of him, as Hermione waved her wand again, making four pieces of white toast fly over, with two settling down on Harry's place while the other two landed on Hermione's. Next, she carried over a frying pan and placed a large helping of scrambled eggs onto Harry's place, while also placing a helping onto hers.

As she sat down, she said, "Well, let's eat, shall we?"

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry stated, "but did you forget that it was my turn to cook breakfast?"

"No, I didn't forget, I just felt like cooking this morning," she said, smiling slightly over at him.

"Fine, but that means that I'm going to prepare the next two breakfasts' for us," Harry said, after he swallowed a delicious helping of toast and eggs.

"Suit yourself," Hermione shot back playfully, making Harry grin over at her. "Anyway, Harry, I think that we should continue helping over at-,"

"No, Hermione," Harry said in a firm tone, cutting her off.

She looked slightly taken aback as this, but she quickly recovered and countered, "But you didn't even know what I was going to say."

"You were going to suggest that we go back to Hogwarts to continue helping out with the repairs."

Hermione was silent for a long moment as Harry surmised that he had guessed correctly.

"But why not," she asked after some time.

"Hermione, you need your rest…how many times do I have to tell you that? Why can't we just take a day to ourselves? Just you and me," Harry placated over to her. "I actually wanted to go somewhere with you."

"You did...where," she asked frankly.

"Today, I was hoping to go and visit Teddy, actually. Mr. Weasley gave me Andromeda's address."

"Yes, I remember that," Hermione said softly. "Of course I'll go with you, Harry. I think it's great that you're making time to see your godson."

"I just want to be there for him when he grows up, kind of like what Sirius was kept from doing with me," Harry said, "he at least deserves that considering what happened to Lupin and Tonks."

"You're right, he does," Hermione replied. After a moment, she then proposed, "I think we should get him something, don't you?"

"Get him something? What do you mean?"

"You know, like a stuffed toy or a blanket. He's still a baby after all," she reasoned.

"Where were you thinking about getting something like that," Harry asked.

"Well I know there are shops right here in Godric's Hollow," Hermione answered, "they must have something here. In fact, I think I did see a children's store when we went to the market several days ago."

Harry thought about this before he nodded his head and said, "Okay, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"You seem surprised," Hermione challenged in a good-natured manner.

Harry shrugged his shoulders over at her as he said, "Well, you've surprised me a lot over this past week."

"In fact, everything that has happened this past week has been surprising," Hermione declared, "I thought that after the war, things would have quieted down for us."

A troubling thought clouded his mind as he responded, "Maybe it won't ever."

"I hope that's not the case," Hermione said.

"Me too," Harry nodded.

"Harry, are you worried about your uncle, aunt, and cousin," Hermione questioned.

He looked over at her and inquired back, "Because of what happened to Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones?"

Hermione nodded her head in answer.

"It is disturbing to think that they both have been killed," Harry replied slowly, "but why would anyone want to kill my uncle, aunt, and cousin for?"

"Well, look at what happened to my mum and dad," Hermione said sadly.

Harry thought about this and figured that Hermione made a good point: was his family still in danger? While his relatives detested Harry the entire time he lived with them, he still didn't fathom the idea that they could be potential targets of murder.

"I'll write to Mr. Weasley and see what he thinks," Harry proposed.

After the pair finished up their breakfast in a rather moody fashion, Harry waved his wand, having the dishes, cups, and silverware fly into the sink, as he and Hermione departed for different bathrooms to prepare for the day ahead.

Harry brushed his teeth before entering back into his room. He picked up his old pair of jeans that was lying on the floor of his room, and dug out the piece of parchment Mr. Weasley gave him before of Andromeda's address. As Harry yanked on a gray, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black jeans, he heard a knock upon his door.

Looking up, he saw Hermione standing in his doorway as she asked, "Are you ready to go?"

"Just about," he said, noticing that Hermione looked particularly pretty in a dark pink blouse, covered up by an unzipped navy sweatshirt and a pair of jeans herself, while her beaded bag was slung over her shoulder.

"You hair never lies flat, does it," she sighed.

Harry grinned over at her as he said, "Not unless you use some of that Sleekeazy's Hair Potion."

At this, Hermione's eyes momentarily lit up as she replied, "Well, actually, I do have another bottle…wait, I'll go get it, it's in my room!"

Just as Hermione turned on the spot, Harry called out, "Hermione! I was joking!"

She turned around to face him, and regaled, with her hands on her hips, "Well I wasn't!"

Harry laughed as he walked up to her and set his hands on her waist. He kissed her forehead once, before kissing the point of her nose, followed by both of her cheeks.

"You know, I wouldn't want to change anything about you," he whispered in a playful manner.

"It's not about changing you, Harry…it's about looking nice for your godson," Hermione said back, though Harry noticed that a small smirk had started to line her face.

"Hermione, Teddy isn't even a year old. I don't think he'll remember what I looked like the first time I visited him," Harry conveyed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as she huffed, "Oh, all right, let's just go."

However, Harry kept his hands firmly on her waist, effectively holding her in place. Slowly, he bent his head down again, inching his way closer and closer down towards Hermione. He closed his eyes, his heart racing frantically, as he mentally preparing to relish in his kiss with her, when suddenly, he found himself kissing a surface that didn't seem to be what he was aiming for.

Confused, he opened his eyes and saw that he was instead kissing the palm of Hermione's hand, which she was holding up in front of her.

Pulling away, Harry asked with his eyebrows pulled together, "What'd you do that for?"

She shrugged her shoulders as she responded with a taunting smile, "I wouldn't have stopped you if you didn't stop me from making your hair somewhat presentable."

With that, she then walked away from him and made her way down the stairs.

"Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.

"I heard that," Hermione called back to him.

Harry laughed before he followed her down the stairs and out of the front door of Potter's Cottage.

The rain had subsided for the time being though thick, grey clouds were still hanging over the village. As the two passed through the cottage's old, wooden fence, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand. He lifted their clasped hands up to his mouth where he planted a kiss on the back of her hand.

The couple walked down the nearly-empty lane, with smiles coating both of their faces. Although he and Hermione had not established the basis of whether they were or were not in a relationship, Harry felt that it was better, for the time being, not to put any label on what he and Hermione shared between them.

After the collection of kisses they shared within the last twelve hours, Harry couldn't help himself from stealing glances of affection from Hermione. She seemed extremely cheerful herself, when suddenly, a question formed within Harry's head: was it a crush he now felt for Hermione, or was it something different…something more?

After all, he's known her for quite some time now, and although he had thought that she was just a bossy little know-it-all when he first met her on the Hogwarts Express, they had developed a deep and emotional friendship with one another soon afterwards.

He had never expected to feel any of these rush of emotions for Hermione that was now welling up inside of him, but he definitely didn't mind it all.

As the two made their way into the central part of Godric's Hollow, they passed by several people, when Hermione led Harry over to a small, white-brick building he had never seen before.

Harry read 'Talbert's Treasures' on the wooden sign that hung over the doorway of the store.

"In here," Hermione said, tugging Harry into the store. A bell jingled above them as Hermione opened the door, signifying their arrival.

As the door shut behind them, Harry looked around and saw rows and rows filled with a wide assortment of toys, storybooks, and playthings for children.

"Hermione, how do you know of this place," Harry asked softly, as he looked around and saw that next to Talbert's Treasures, another white-brick building stood, as a wooden sign was plastered against its facade, with the word 'Corvus' spelled out in elegant black lettering.

"It's like I told you before, I saw it the other day when we went to the market," she answered back. "Let's see, oh, they have a nice variety of stuffed toys here, Harry!"

He looked down to where Hermione was pointing to and saw that she was quite right, for a large crate was situated feet from them, filled to its brim with stuffed animals.

They both walked over to it and knelt down and started to dig through the store's mixture of stuffed toys.

"How about this one," Harry asked Hermione, holding up an elephant.

She scrunched her nose up and shook her head from side to side.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her pick up a turtle before she hastily set it back down.

"Okay, how about this one," Harry asked again.

"Really, Harry? You're going to give your godson a stuffed pig?"

"Why not," he asked, confused.

"Well, I don't know, I guess you can get it if you want but I'm sure there are better things in here than a pig," Hermione replied.

After looking around a bit more, Harry excavated a baby wolf, covered in grey fur, with only its underbelly sporting a coat of white hairs. He looked at it, wondering if he should give Teddy this.

"Harry, that looks nice," Hermione remarked, dropping the raven she was holding back into the chest.

"Yeah it does but I don't know if this is the right thing to give him," Harry responded somewhat subdued.

"What's wrong with it," Hermione inquired.

"Well nothing's wrong with it but don't you remember what Lupin said to us when Tonks told us that she was pregnant?"

Hermione shook her head from side to side as Harry continued on in a low voice, "He said that was afraid he might've passed on his 'werewolf' tendencies to Teddy. He was almost ashamed of himself to be Teddy's father."

Hermione seemed to ponder over Harry's words before she said, "I think it's the best stuffed toy we could give him. I'm positive that Professor Lupin would've made a great father, no matter what he thought. I know that he loved Teddy, no matter if he held the opinion that Teddy could never love him back."

Harry nodded his head, agreeing with what she said. The two of them stood up, as Hermione dug into her beaded bag, as she pulled out Muggle currency.

"Hermione, you don't have to pay for this," Harry said, grabbing her arm lightly.

"Yes, I do," she replied, "Harry, you don't have any money with you, remember?"

He sighed. "Fine, but after we visit Teddy, we're going straight to Gringotts," he replied, realizing that Hermione was right in the fact that Harry didn't have any money with him.

"It's okay, I don't mind paying," she told him.

"But I want to pay for things too," Harry said simply.

"I know, but I'll pay for this," Hermione responded, taking the stuffed wolf out of his hands and bringing it up to the counter.

Several minutes later, the pair exited Talbert's Treasures with a gift bag tucked under Hermione's arm as she turned to Harry and asked, "So how do you want to get to Andromeda's place?"

"I was thinking of taking the Knight Bus, actually," Harry answered, "unless you wanted to take a cab?"

Harry remembered how terrified Hermione was of the Knight Bus, after she, along with Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Lupin, and Tonks used it to get from Grimmauld Place to King's Cross Station back in their fifth year after winter break had ended.

Hermione also seemed to remember her terror on riding the Knight Bus as her face was screwed up in thought.

"Well," she started, wringing her hands together, "taking the Knight Bus would be quicker, but taking a cab would be safer."

Harry smiled over at her before taking her hand once again and saying, "Hermione, we'll be perfectly safe on the Knight Bus, trust me."

"I don't know, Harry," she started, "that bus is like an accident waiting to happen."

"I'll be with you," Harry consoled her, taking her hand in his, "you don't have to worry about anything."

After another long moment, she relented, as she said, "Oh all right, we'll take the Knight Bus."

"Okay, let's go back to Potter's Cottage and we'll take it from there," Harry said, tugging Hermione lightly away from Talbert's Treasures.

As she stepped in line with him, Hermione asked, "We can't call it here because there's too many Muggles around?"

"I'm not entirely sure what would happen if we called the Knight Bus here, but I don't want to risk anything," Harry replied in a quiet voice as to not to be overheard.

After they made their way back to Potter's Cottage, the pair looked around to see if anyone was around.

Seeing no one nearby, Harry carefully took out his wand and waved it through the thin air.

Suddenly, an almighty _BANG!_ was heard, as the violet, triple-decker Knight Bus suddenly appeared.

Harry noticed that Hermione's hand was placed over her heart, as the sudden emergence of the bus frightened her. He placed a hand on her side and pulled her into him, making sure that no harm was to come to Hermione.

Looking up at the bus, Harry saw that Stan Shunpike had jumped happily down onto the pavement of Godric's Hollow, his thin frame sporting a purple uniform while his light, brown hair masked his pimply face.

"'Arry, it's you!"

"Hey Stan," Harry said, giving him a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"'Yuh wouldn' believe all of the stories I've heard of yuh recently," he exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement, "'dere were stories of yuh breaking into Gringotts and battling dragons and all everyfing!"

"Imagine that," Harry responded, "er, do you mind if we get on?"

"Sure, come on, then, come on," he said loudly, waving his wand for Harry and Hermione to step onto the Knight Bus.

Harry took Hermione's hand and led her onto the bus, as they then looked around and saw a large collection mismatched chairs gathered around random windows of the bus, with about half of them being occupied. Harry was uneasy with the fact that every head had turned towards him.

Harry guided Hermione over to two seats near a window, in which a candle bracket hung nearby. Hermione placed the gift bag with the stuffed werewolf inside from Talbert's Treasures on her lap.

"Where abouts yuh headed?"

"Castle Combe, in Wiltshire," Harry answered as he looked at the piece of parchment Mr. Weasley had given him, still aware that every eye was upon him.

Stan nodded his head and called out, "Take it 'way, Ern!"

Suddenly, the bus zoomed off, as a row of light posts jumped out of its way, preventing a near collision. After several short minutes, they were passing by a green countryside dotted with several small towns, as the bus entered into a small village, its wheels rumbling along the cobblestone streets.

Hermione covered her eyes with both of her hands while Harry kept a protective arm over her shoulders.

"It's all right, Hermione, you don't have to worry about-,"

 _BANG!_

Suddenly, the Knight Bus was rolling through a crowded town as all of the seats toppled over, sending Harry, Hermione, the gift bag, and the rest of the witches and wizards all flying backwards.

As Stan walked away, Harry helped Hermione to her feet before grabbing the gift bag, while the rest of the witches and wizard picked themselves off of the floor, grumbling quietly to each other.

"Here, hold on to this," Harry told her, indicating the candle bracket they were close to.

She did as she was told, grabbing hold of the candle bracket with her right hand, while her left hand shielded her eyes, as the bus continued to move forward at a frightening pace.

Harry saw that the Knight Bus was rocketing towards what looked like a post office. He braced for an impact that never came for the post office jumped out of the way at the last possible second, as he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"So, what've yuh been up to, 'Arry," Stan asked, as he made his way back over to them.

"Oh, um, I've been around," Harry answered, "helping with the repairs at Hogwarts and everything."

"'Dere really was a war tha' took place then?"

Harry was thrown off by Stan's statement, wondering how he somehow missed the fact that the wizarding community in England had nearly collapsed just a short time ago; Harry decided it was best not to answer him.

 _BANG!_

The Knight Bus suddenly whizzed past a train station. However, before Harry could fall over, Hermione reached over with surprising speed and grabbed hold of his long-sleeved shirt and held on tightly, preventing him from falling to the floor.

"Thanks," Harry said, smiling over at Hermione, who could only nod in answer. As Stan disappeared again, the witches and wizards picked themselves up again, clearly growing more irritated.

"I can't believe you talked me into riding this thing," Hermione said taking her hand away from her eyes, as Harry noticed her face was turning a nasty shade of green.

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure we're almost there," Harry told her quickly, "we'll be off of the bus in no time."

Hermione gave him a sour look as she bent her head downwards, as she then started to cling onto the candle bracket with both of her hands.

After a few minutes, the bus rolled to a stop as Stan called out, "'Ey, 'Arry, this is your stop!"

"Oh thanks goodness," Hermione cried out quietly, sounding thoroughly relieved as she jumped up from her seat and took off, without waiting for Harry.

He followed her as he saw that she was digging into her beaded bag to pay for their trip.

"Oh, no! Anyone wit 'Arry doesn' need to pay," Stan told her, shooting Harry a wide smile.

"Are you sure," Hermione asked, as she took out eleven Sickles and held it in the palm of her hand.

"No, no, no! He rides fer free!"

Hermione looked curiously over at Harry who shrugged his shoulders in return.

"Well, okay then…if you're sure," Hermione said, stepping off of the bus while Harry handed her the gift bag in which she took it from him and clutched it in her hand.

"See ya later, 'Arry," Stan said, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed.

"See you," Harry called back, giving Stan half a nod of his head.

"Take it 'way, Ern," Stan yelled out.

Harry and Hermione watched the Knight Bus race away from them, turning invisible under the grey sky.

"Well, just so you know, Harry, I don't think I'll ever ride that again," Hermione told him, as he noticed that her face was returning back to its normal color.

"It wasn't so bad," Harry conferred.

She shot him a weird look as Harry shrugged his shoulders again, this time in a teasing manner.

"Would you prefer to fly, then," Harry questioned.

"Harry, you very well know that I don't like to fly," Hermione scolded.

Harry smiled over at her before they both looked around at where they were. The pair was standing on a paved road that was lined on both sides by long rows of two-story homes and buildings. Harry took notice that off in the distance, a great number of green trees were rising along a hill that was shrouded in a cool mist.

Harry took Hermione's hand as they walked over a small bridge, in which he looked down and saw two white swans that were dancing within the waters of the By Brook River below.

The couple walked up a lane in which they saw that ivy had overtaken the outside walls of a number of the homes and buildings, while small, rectangular garden boxes hung from various windows. Birds chirped over to one another, their crystal-like voices chorusing together, sounding harmonic.

"Harry, it's so beautiful here," Hermione commented as her eyes wandered around the quaint village, "it's so serene."

"It definitely is," he replied, before he reached into his pockets for the piece of parchment Mr. Weasley gave him so they could find Andromeda's home.

As they continued down another lane, Hermione interlinked her arm with Harry's. He smiled when she did so, as he bent over and kissed her forehead lovingly, letting his lips linger against her. He heard her sigh in contentment, as she leaned her head into his shoulder.

They passed by a couple that was walking their two dogs, with both animals being distracted by two yellow butterflies that were chasing each other through the soft wind feet above them, as Harry and Hermione gave them friendly smiles, in which they received in return.

Harry looked at each home they walked by, as the grey clouds continued to linger overhead.

Finally, he came to a stop in front of a well-kept two-story home, squished between two other homes, with a brown exterior that was partially covered in green ivy, accented by a small mixture of red roses.

"This is it," Harry said, without looking at Hermione.

After looking at the home for a small minute, Hermione caressed Harry's arm gently as she softly said, "Let's go."

Together, they walked up to the home as Hermione looked over at Harry.

"Harry, you have nothing to be nervous of," Hermione told him.

"I'm not nervous," Harry replied, those he could tell that his voice betrayed his words.

"Harry, I can see it on your face," Hermione said, "but I'll be right by your side the entire time."

As Harry nodded once, Hermione knocked upon the door. Harry's heartbeat suddenly began to quicken, though Harry was unsure as to why he was feeling so edgy.

Sure this was his first time ever seeing his godson in the flesh, yet what exactly did he have to be anxious about?

The door opened a crack as a heavy-lidded eye looked out at Harry and Hermione.

"Um, hello," Hermione called out.

The door then opened a bit wider as Harry and Hermione's eyes fell upon Andromeda; although it is true that Andromeda resembled her older sister, Bellatrix, in many respects, she was also quite different. For one, her hair was of a light brown, rather than Bellatrix's black hair. Also, her eyes were both wider and kinder, a stark contrast to that of her elder sister as well.

"Harry Potter," she said in a surprised voice as her eyes rose up towards his lightning bolt-shaped scar, "what are you doing here?"

After looking quickly at Hermione, he cleared his throat and said, "I'm actually here to see Teddy. I haven't had time to visit him yet, but I wanted to meet him."

Andromeda nodded her head before she said, "Well come in, come in."

Harry and Hermione entered into the home while Andromeda shut the door softly behind them. Harry noticed that they were standing in a small and cluttered foyer area, as a skinny staircase was situated against one of the home's white walls. He also saw that a small hallway beyond the stairs led towards the kitchen area, while two rooms stood to his left and right.

Andromeda looked over at Harry as he perceived that there was a certain sadness in her eyes, which he didn't have any doubt that it was because of her daughter, Tonks, and her husband, Ted, both of whom had been killed during the war.

"I certainly didn't expect to see you, Harry," she said, "especially so soon after the war. Where are you staying right now? Still at the Burrow with the Weasleys?"

"No, I'm not staying at the Burrow. I'm actually living in Godric's Hollow," Harry responded.

"Ah yes, Godric's Hollow," Andromeda said thoughtfully, "that's a very nice village."

"Yes, it is," Harry replied somewhat awkwardly.

"You're here to meet Teddy, you say," Andromeda asked in a quiet voice.

"Well, I thought it would be better to see Teddy as soon as possible," Harry stated.

Andromeda's eyes shone with unshed tears as she smiled happily over at Harry.

"I know that both Remus and Nymphadora loved you very much, Harry. They always spoke very highly of you, you know."

Harry smiled kindly at her words while she then turned to Hermione and asked, "And how are you, Miss Granger I think it is?"

"Y-Yes," Hermione stammered, clearly befuddled that Andromeda knew her name.

"My dear, the entire wizarding community in England knows your name," answering Hermione's unasked question, "and that of Mr. Weasley's too. You three are famous!"

Hermione smiled over at Andromeda though Harry could tell she didn't embrace the celebrity attitude that came with defeating Voldemort and the end of the war.

"Well, I know you're here to see Ted, so follow me, he's in the living room," Andromeda said, waving her hand for Harry and Hermione to follow her. "I don't know if you know this but Teddy is a Metamorphmagus, just like Nymphadora. She was so proud of him when she first found out."

The couple followed Andromeda into the living area where a small playpen was setup in one corner, in which a small compilation of toys was scattered within.

Harry and Hermione's eyes then fell upon Teddy Lupin, who was cradled within a baby rocker that was situated between two couches and an armchair.

"There he is, my handsome little grandson," Andromeda said softly.

Harry and Hermione stood back, as if they were afraid to come any closer to a life that was so small, yet already filled with so much anguish.

"Go ahead, go ahead," Andromeda said, urging Harry and Hermione to step closer, "he won't be scared of you two."

Harry followed Hermione as she walked closer to the rocker as they both knelt down next to it.

Harry hesitantly looked over at Teddy for the first time in the flesh: he saw that Teddy had a clump of wispy light, brown hair on top of his head, while his wide, round eyes were of a dark green color. His mouth was set in a firm line, as he stared at Harry and Hermione in curiosity, seeing them for the first time in his life. Harry noted that his hands were like two small stones, while his little feet kicked into the air at random intervals.

"Oh, Harry, he's adorable," Hermione whispered, smiling down at Teddy.

For his part, Teddy didn't smile back, as he still seemed to be studying Harry and Hermione, as if he was trying to make up his mind whether these were good people or not.

Hermione looked up at Andromeda and asked, "Ms. Tonks, would you mind if I held him?"

"Please call me Andromeda and yes, please go ahead," she replied cheerfully.

Hermione smiled at her before she redirected her attention down towards Teddy. Very carefully, Hermione reached down and picked Teddy up in her arms; Harry was amazed at Hermione's apparent expertise at handling babies.

She cradled him within her arms, as she rocked him gently from side to side. She looked fondly down at him, as he stared up at her in what looked like a mixture of confusion and comfort. Teddy reached up one of his tiny hands and grabbed one of the ends of Hermione's hair which made her giggle at him.

"His skin is so white," Hermione exclaimed quietly to Harry, "but he's so precious."

After another moment, Hermione looked over at Harry and said, "Here, Harry, you take him."

Harry, however, hesitated, as he mumbled, "Um, no, I think I'm alright."

"Harry, stop being so silly," Hermione commented, "now hold out your arms."

"Actually, I think I'm fine," Harry replied, "I'll be okay."

Hermione was not to be deferred as she had already begun transferring Teddy over to Harry.

"Hermione," Harry said in exasperation, awkwardly grabbing hold of Teddy as Hermione placed him into his arms.

When he did so, however, he looked down at the baby, who in turn, stared up at his new holder.

The two locked eyes with one another, godfather and godson, as Harry thought about how fragile Teddy was as a baby. He was just so small yet Harry could also tell that Teddy was quite curious about the world around him. Harry felt a yearning to protect Teddy, to keep him safe from any danger and harm.

Teddy reached up his hand and grabbed a little fistful of Harry's long-sleeved grey shirt. Harry smiled down at him, as Teddy grinned back.

"Oh how I wish Remus and Nymphadora could've seen you two," Andromeda said aloud, in a teary voice.

Harry looked up at her as he noticed that a tear fell down her face.

"Andromeda, I can't tell you enough how sorry I am for what happened to Tonks and your husband, Ted," Harry said, as he continued to cradle Teddy in his arms."

"Harry, don't you go about blaming yourself now. As hard as it is to admit aloud, this was war, and as with any war, there are bound to be casualties, many of them. It isn't fair what happened to them, but when you think of it, when is life ever fair," Andromeda replied. "But don't blame yourself for what has happened. None of this is your fault."

"Then why does it feel like it," Harry asked in a quiet voice.

"Listen to me, Harry: as people, we are all flawed in one way or another. We are bound by both science and logic to think the worst of ourselves; why, I have no idea, but that is the way the pendulum swings for us as human beings. I have talked a lot with Remus and Nymphadora, and they have both told me repeatedly that you always blame yourself for things outside of your control. It's an inherent quality that you possess and if I'm to be honest with you, I think that you'll always carry that with you for the rest of your life.

"But, know this: life takes us on a journey, a journey in which we never know what our next steps will be. There are twists and turns and drops and climbs that we must all endure, but it is who we have as part of our lives that makes it worth the journey ahead. You have people in your life, Harry, that care deeply for you, I know you do. Keep them close to you, hold onto them if you must, but just remember to never let go of them. Life flashes by us, and many times, it makes fools of us, but it would be cruel for you to go on with life, blaming yourself for any mishap or mistake that wasn't in your control. Don't live that kind of life, Harry…life it too short for that. Live a life full of love and receive it in return."

Harry thought over her words as he instinctively thought about Hermione. He then looked back down at Teddy who was still gazing up at him in return.

After a couple moments of silence, Hermione suddenly said, "Harry and I got something for Teddy. I was hoping to give it to him if you don't mind."

Andromeda looked over at her as she replied, "You didn't have to do that!"

"It's something small," Hermione replied, opening the gift bag and taking out the stuffed werewolf. "I just hope he likes it."

Hermione showed Teddy the stuffed werewolf as he looked at it curiously. Still within Harry's arms, Teddy reached up for it, as Harry, Hermione, and Andromeda all smiled.

Hermione placed it gently into his arms, as he then began cuddling with the toy.

"I believe you said before, Harry, that you were staying in Godric's Hollow," Andromeda asked quietly.

"Yeah, and Hermione is staying with me," he replied, looking up at her.

"Well, I think you would like to know that recently, there has been a growing magical community that has settled there," Andromeda said.

"Really," Hermione asked her, "I didn't know anything about that."

"Yes, obviously it's kept hidden from Muggles, but it's located in the central part of the village, from what I have heard. Apparently, you can access the magical community in Godric's Hollow through a painting of sorts."

"What's the painting of," Hermione questioned.

Andromeda replied simply, "It is the painting of a woman and a raven."

* * *

Author's Note: For me, this was a challenging chapter to write, especially with Andromeda. This chapter, concludes Part 2 of my story, as Part 3 will start with Chapter 15, which will be posted WEDNESDAY MORNING. Thanks for reading.


	15. A Fear to Anchor

**Part 3: The Woman and the Raven**

Warning: This chapter contains scenes meant for mature audiences.

Chapter 15: A Fear to Anchor

The pair walked down the quiet, cobblestone streets of Castle Combe in Wiltshire, the silence being nearly impenetrable between them. Harry was lost in his own thoughts, so deep that he wasn't sure if he would ever surface. He didn't seem to notice that Hermione was walking next to him, nor was he aware of the fact that she kept stealing curious glances over at him.

The skies were still overcast, as small puddles of rain pooled in poorly-drained areas of the small village. The clouds still lingered over the rising hills that bordered Castle Combe, its tall trees disappearing into nothingness. From time to time, a cool breeze swept over the lonesome pair, running a chill up Harry's spine, making him shake uncontrollably.

Harry looked mindlessly at the rising vines that snaked up the walls of random homes, its exteriors protected and hidden. Harry didn't even notice that the birds had stopped singing to each other, perhaps as if they had run out of things to say, while the butterflies that encircled Harry and Hermione before had long taken flight, leaving them alone to wallow in their own subdued thoughts.

What was probing at Harry's mind was what Andromeda had told them just before they left her home: a magical community was hidden from the naked eye in Godric's Hollow, and the only way to access it was through the painting of the woman and the raven.

As seemingly menacing ideas about the woman and the raven jumbled within his head, Hermione's voice brought him out of his deep stupor.

"What is it, Harry," she asked lightly, looking up at him, "what are you not sharing with me?"

He inwardly sighed as he contemplated what he, himself, had been thinking. Too many thoughts were running rampant inside of him, so much so, that he felt as if he was brimming with unintelligible knowledge. Something was missing from his arsenal that could piece everything together…something that was far from his grasp, alluding capture…alluding any type of solid, concrete conclusion...about the woman and the raven.

Harry looked down at Hermione intensely and replied, "It's about what Andromeda said to us, about the woman and the raven. There's something about that place, if you could call it that, that doesn't feel right. I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to help feel like everything that has happened to us since the war ended, is tied together, like it all relates to some sort of chain of events."

"What do you mean by 'everything'," Hermione questioned, with acute apprehension.

Harry stopped walking and turned towards Hermione, as she did to him as well.

"With what happened down in Australia, to seeing the feathers of the raven on the ward back at St. Mungo's, to my dreams that I've been having about that painting; even finding that note my mum wrote about my dad taking her to the graffiti art of the woman and the raven back when first visited Potter's Cottage when we left Hogwarts…but nothing seems to fit together," Harry replied, noticing a shadow cross over Hermione's face when he mentioned 'Australia', "nothing makes any sense."

"Look Hermione, I don't want to frighten you, but Mr. Weasley told me when we visited him before that he thinks you may be some sort of target," Harry stated, watching her carefully, trying to studying her facial expression to her body language, trying to muster some sense of readability about her.

She paused for a moment, as time itself seemed to suspend in the air between them. She looked towards the ground, seeing something that wasn't really there, before she trained her eyes back on Harry.

"Why didn't you say anything before," she whispered, sounding as if she was wounded that Harry would keep something of this magnitude hidden, especially given the fact that it pertained to her.

Harry, himself, wanted to take back his words, feeling as if he overstepped some sort of invisible line that had established itself between him and Hermione. He felt his heart suffer a crushing defeat.

"I thought we agreed to not keep secrets from each other," she remarked in a soft manner, her brown eyes seeping with mild betrayal.

"I know, I just…I didn't know how to tell you," Harry replied to her, doing a poor job of justification.

His shoulders slumped forward in a overwhelming frustration, rendering him baffled at the fact that he may have royally screwed up his somewhat obscured relationship he had with Hermione.

"I just wanted to keep you safe," Harry answered, looking down at his shoes, ashamed of the hurt feeling Hermione was now enduring.

She kept silent for a minute, seeming to regard his response carefully.

Harry felt the need to press on and so he did. "If anything happened to you because of me, I don't even know what I would do to myself, Hermione. You know how guilty I feel already with everything that has happened ever since you and I have been with each other over the past week. I don't want anything bad to happen to you anymore."

A chilly breeze blew over the still couple, ruffling Harry's already distressed hair, while making Hermione's brown hair billow behind her in freedom.

Harry noticed that she visibly shuddered, as he moved forward and enfolded her into an embrace, where he felt her rest her head against his chest, as her arms raced behind him and clasped together at his lower back. The minutes ticked by as they stood there as one, uninterrupted, yet both of them seemed to be holding back words of comfort they would normally share with each other.

It was some time before Hermione peeked up to look at Harry.

"You really are too good to me," she commented, "I almost feel as if I don't deserve it."

Harry looked down at her, confusion etched within his facial features, before he inquired, "Hang on, you're not mad at me?"

A look of placid bewilderment crossed over Hermione's face as she asked, "Harry, why would I be mad at you?"

He shrugged his shoulders awkwardly as he replied, "For not telling you what Mr. Weasley told me before."

Hermione shook her head from side to side while Harry still held her against him.

"No, Harry, I'm not mad at you at all. I'm just a little shocked is all. I didn't even think that me being some kind of target ever crossed my mind."

She returned her head against his chest, as he rested his cheek atop of her soft hair. They swayed a little from side to side, as Harry noticed Hermione's arms tightly held on to the other behind him.

Hermione then released her hold of Harry, which surprisingly he mentally rallied against, before he let his own arms fall away from her. As they continued on through the village walking side by side, Harry didn't like the fact that he was so close to Hermione but he wasn't a part of her in any way. To satisfy himself, he wound his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side, enjoying the warmth that emitted from their simple, yet amorous touch.

In response, Hermione wordlessly wrapped her own arm around Harry's side, holding onto him, rendering them fairly inseparable, not that he minded in the slightest.

The couple continued to walk on, as another breeze swept over them. Harry breathed in the fresh air that surrounded them, relieved with the fact that Hermione wasn't at all mad at him while something inside of him all of a sudden ignited and made him yearn for Hermione even more. He wasn't sure exactly what this newfound feeling of his entailed, but his heart was beating wildly at the thought of him and Hermione alone, back in Potter's Cottage together, just the two of them. Rightfully confused, Harry shook his head in a hurried manner, again unsure what kind of feeling just came over him.

The two passed back over the By Brook River, by use of the bridge that hung over it, noticing that the two white swans they had seen previously were gone. Harry looked down at the peaceful waters of the river below, and he sighed in contentment.

"What is it, Harry?"

Harry looked down at Hermione before he turned his head to look back upon the near-silent village, casting his bright, green eyes over the subdued town.

"I'm just happy Teddy has this place to call home," he replied, "this place seems good for him, don't you think?"

Hermione squeezed Harry tighter as she replied, "It seems perfect, as does he."

Harry smirked as he responded, "He does, doesn't he? I was waiting for him to change the color of his hair for me…too bad it didn't happen."

"Harry, he's just a baby," Hermione scolded him though in a teasing manner.

"I know, I know, but I still fancied seeing it," he replied, "and Remus told us before that Teddy had managed to do it."

"We'll be back, won't be," Hermione asked after a still moment.

Harry looked down at her seriously before he nodded his head, "Of course we will. I want to see him grow up, Hermione…I want to be there for him, just like Sirius wanted to be there for me…I want to be part of his life, as long as he'll let me."

"I can't imagine why he wouldn't want you to be part of his life, and don't give me any of that 'baggage' rubbish, Harry. You're a wonderful person, both inside and out," Hermione said, making Harry's smirk grow into a smile.

"I don't think I ever told you how good you are to me," Harry said, kissing her on her forehead. However, when he did so, that strange, unknown feeling crept up inside of him again, as it seemed to be pushing him to do something more, something more than kissing her on her forehead. This new rush of feelings flummoxed him, as he thought that he and Hermione had already shared intense snogs with each other, therefore he didn't quite understand why he felt like doing something more. Again, Harry shook his head from side to side, quelling these thoughts and feelings from surfacing for the time being.

"Actually, I think you have said that before," Hermione replied, seemingly to be deep in thought.

Harry rolled his eyes, scoffing in good humor.

"Are you ready to go then," he asked her.

He saw her gaze out at the village for a final time, before she looked up at him, and nodded her head in answer.

"This time, I'll aparate us to Diagon Alley so we can go to Gringotts," Harry told her, "unless you'd prefer to take another chance with the Knight Bus," as his shoulders shook with silent laughter, a wide smile overtaking his face.

"Oh, making jokes now, are you, Harry James Potter?"

All of a sudden, Harry's smile was wiped clean from his face, while he grew quite serious.

Noticing his abrupt chance, Hermione's eyebrows pulled together as she asked in concern, "What is it, Harry?"

"It's the way you said my name," he told her quietly.

She cocked her to one side, clearly confused, while she relayed to him, "But I say your name all the time, don't I?"

"No, you never said my full name before," he wondered, his tone of voice masking astonishment.

Hermione's cheeks flared a bright pink as she suddenly looked away from him and said, "Oh, um, well yes, I've never said your full name before, but I suppose I shouldn't have, I don't know what came over me-,"

"I liked it," Harry cut in, "I don't mind it at all."

This time, Hermione's entire face erupted in a pink, otherworldly glow, while Harry felt a deep blush creep up his neck.

"Oh, well um, I'm glad you like it," she said to him, in an embarrassed manner.

"Right," was all Harry could say in reply. "Well…er…I guess we should get going then."

"Yes, of course," Hermione relented, nodding her head.

With their arms still wrapped around each other's side, Harry disapparated them away from the hushed and serene setting of Castle Combe in Wiltshire, leaving behind the unmoving waters of the By Brook River.

They then appeared on the spindly lane of Diagon Alley, as Harry noticed that quite a few people were about, taking care of whatever business they needed to attend to. The sky overhead was a dull grey just as it was back in West Country, which marked a stark contrast to the colorful shops that lined the street before the teenagers.

Harry and Hermione then proceeded up the walkway, with their arms still wrapped around one another, with Harry's hand resting on Hermione's hip, while her hand rested on Harry's hip. It was almost as if they were each other's protectors, standing by each other's side as a private guardian.

As their shoes scuffled over the rough street, heads of daily shoppers began to turn in unison over at Harry and Hermione. What was once a scene of a flurry of motion paired with a choir of voices, all but evaporated, as people stopped in their tracks and stopped talking with one another, to take a look at Harry and Hermione walking past them in silence. It was if the shoppers had turned into a hoard of hungry wolves, scouring with their eyes for a pound of flesh to rip apart the fabric that encased Harry and Hermione.

Harry grew uncomfortable with all of the attention that was being thrown his way as he always did, and he suspected that Hermione felt the same. Subconsciously, he pulled her tighter to his side, as he focused on taking deep, even breaths, as he stared ahead of him, making their way over to the gray, crooked columns of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, its marble-white exterior dull without the face of the sun to shimmer from.

Harry and Hermione's peaceful morning all but seemed like a fairytale of old, swept out from under them rather unexpectedly, as they were left to face the uncomfortable truths of their status as wizard celebrities.

Whispers started to submerge Harry's ears, like that of flood waters spilling over a river's embankment. He decided to ignore all of the murmurs that floated in the air around him, instead directing his attention on his simple task at hand of entering his vault at Gringotts.

"Harry, everyone's staring at us," Hermione whispered over to him, as he noticed that her voice was weary with discomfort.

"I know but just ignore them, Hermione," he replied in a quiet voice, "don't pay them any attention. It's kind of like the times back at Hogwarts, right?"

"I guess," Hermione started, "but then, it was only students…but now, it's adults that are staring and whispering about us. It feels uncomfortable."

At her words, Harry pulled her even more tightly against his side, as even in the midst of a building crowd of witches and wizards, Harry once more felt an urging need to do something more…something more with Hermione. His head raced with these sudden, and rather queer, thoughts, as he had no idea why these sets of emotions rushed at him at this point in time, or why they were inside him at all.

Nonetheless, he kept his head partially down, instead staring down at the cobblestones that made up the lane, taking a heavy interest in its colorful nature, though he did look up from time to time just to make sure he didn't actually run into anyone or anything.

Their walked seemed to drag on; with each step they took felt as if they were wandering through eternity. Their destination was in plain sight, as the wizard bank towered at the end of the street, yet it was as if a fool had stolen the time that clouded their movements.

As the whispers continued to steadily build around them, Harry had half a mind to disapparate him and Hermione away from Diagon Alley, and back to the solace of Potter's Cottage. But, Harry pressed on with Hermione entangled at his side, as finally, they found themselves walking up the wide stairs and into Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

Harry and Hermione passed through a heavy set of burnished bronze doors, going by a goblin dressed in a scarlet and gold uniform. After stepping into a small entrance hall and walking through another weighty set of silver doors, they found themselves in a colossal marble hall.

Although Harry had been here numerous times, with the last time being a high-stakes infiltration and robbery, he didn't think he would ever get over the magnificence or the pageantry of the wizard bank. Two gigantic chandeliers, flanked in a variety of shimmering gold and ruby crystals hung above the hall, making a variety of light bend and dance to its will over the floor. Two circular windows were fixed upon a far wall, as Harry noted the outside clouds of gray drift past as if it were bored.

Hundreds of goblins sat behind a long line of wooden ledges, as candles burned brightly next to each creature, as a still smoke swirled into the air before escaping into oblivion.

"It seemed like the bank has already been repaired," Hermione noted quietly, as she whispered into Harry's ear, sending a welcoming tremor racing through his bones.

"Yeah," was all Harry could say back to her, as he still felt her warm breath against his skin, while a tingling sensation manifested itself within his toes.

A few witches and wizards were in the bank, though none of them paid much attention to Harry and Hermione, much to the couple's relief.

Harry guided Hermione up to an empty counter. The black eyes of the goblin the pair had marched up to hid behind his square glasses, while he stared over at Harry and Hermione, almost as if sneering at the pair.

"Yes," the goblin rasped out, in a wheezy voice, as if he inhaled too much smoke protruding from the flickering flame next to him.

"I'd like to visit my vault," Harry answered in an even voice.

The goblin stared down at Harry and Hermione for a long moment, an evil glimmer in his eyes, before he shuffled off of his seat. He walked around the ledge and up towards Harry and Hermione, though he stood just up to their stomachs.

"Do you have your key," the goblin asked, holding out his skeletal-like hand, as Harry saw his overgrown, yellowish fingernails.

Harry then reached into his pocket and took out the golden key to his vault he grabbed from Potter's Cottage just before they went to visit Teddy.

After the goblin took the key into his hand and inspected it with his beady little black eyes, he turned directly on the spot, his shoes squeaking against the cool floor, and said over his shoulder, "Follow me."

Harry and Hermione followed the goblin as he let them past another set of brown, wooden doors, turned right, and walked down a narrow, stone hallway, passing by flaming torches that hung from the walls. The narrow hallway then sloped downwards towards a track, in which a little cart stood waiting for the threesome.

The goblin stepped in the cart and waited for Harry and Hermione to follow. Harry let his hand drop from Hermione's waist as he climbed in first. After he did so, he immediately turned around and grabbed Hermione's hand to help her safely into the cart. They then sat down in the small, stiff seats the cart provided, crammed against one another, while the goblin stood in front of them, next to small lantern that hung from a small pipe.

Without any word of caution, the cart zoomed forward, jostling Harry and Hermione backwards into their seats.

The cart wound its way downwards as its track led them into a mammoth-sized area. Harry looked around and saw dozens upon dozens of interlaced tracks, leading off into different areas of the bank, while the bank seemed to have no bottom...only blackness.

Harry looked over and saw that Hermione had placed both of her hands over her eyes, shielding her vision.

He leaned over and whispered into her ear, "Hermione, why are you scared? You've been here before."

"I know but that doesn't make it any less scary," she replied.

Harry smirked at her response as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to keep her from any harm.

The cart suddenly make a sharp right turn as Harry had thought for one horrifying moment that the cart would surely tip over and tumble off of its track. The cart's lantern swung precariously, shining a light over the jagged and sharp edges of rock stone the track wound around, before plummeting downwards again, making Harry's heart jump into his throat, as he felt Hermione stiffen beside him.

The goblin, meanwhile, seemed unfazed by the cart's rough movements, as Harry thought that he might actually be enjoying himself.

Finally, the cart made another piercing right turn, before it slowed down, as it passed between two large boulders. Noticing its unhurried pace, Hermione removed her hands from her eyes, as the cart traveled down a straight line, as flames danced within their black brackets, which clung against the walls of stone. Harry and Hermione looked sideways and noticed the curved doors of each vault they passed.

The cart then stopped rather unexpectedly, as the pair was flung forward harshly. The goblin stepped out of the cart and onto a rough stone walkway.

"Vault six-hundred and eighty seven," he said in his same wheezy tone, before setting Harry's key into the keyhole and opened the curved door of Harry's vault.

"Stay here," Harry said softly to Hermione as he retracted his arm from her shoulders, "this shouldn't take too long."

Harry then stood to his feet and got out of the cart and stepped onto the stone passageway the goblin was currently standing on.

He withdrew a pouched from his back jeans pocket as he stepped into his vault. At once, his bright, green eyes fell upon the mounds of gold that was left behind by his parents. Harry, never one to be greedy, hurriedly stashed galleons, sickles, and knuts into his pouch before exiting his vault without looking behind him.

The goblin closed the door to his vault as Harry stepped back into the cart and took his seat next to Hermione. The goblin soon followed, and before long, the cart was racing away again.

A short time later, the pair found themselves exiting Gringotts Wizarding Bank, and walked down the wide, white steps of the establishment.

"Did you want to do anything else here or go back to Godric's Hollow," Harry asked, looking down at Hermione.

"What about going to Hogwarts," Hermione suggested.

Harry made a point to roll his eyes at Hermione as he responded, "Hermione, Healer Jones ordered for you to take a week off and rest. No, we're not going to Hogwarts."

"But, Harry-," Hermione started.

However, she was silenced by the fierce look he suddenly gave her. "No, Hermione."

She visibly sagged, casting her eyes downward which made guilt deluge Harry's heart.

"Hey," Harry said softly, making Hermione peek up at him, "I know you want to help, Hermione, but I'm not going to watch you pass out again…I don't want to see you like that. But after a week, I'll make sure that we go back and help with the repairs, trust me."

She nodded her head at him after a minute before she replied, "I know, I just want to help."

"I know you do, and I think that's brilliant, but we just have to wait and you need your rest."

Hermione sighed as she then remarked, "Harry, if you want to go and help with the repairs at Hogwarts, I think you should. I can go back to Godric's Hollow on my own…I'll be fine."

Harry shook his head from side to side as he revealed, "I'm not leaving you alone, Hermione…unless you want me to," he finished in a lame manner.

Hermione suddenly started laughing at his comment as Harry's eyebrows pulled together and asked in a somewhat accusing tone, "What did I say?"

As Hermione started to regain her control over her laughter, she said, "Harry, of course I don't want you to leave me alone, but I also don't want to stop you from doing whatever it is you want to do."

Harry mulled over her words in his head before he reached a decision. "I'm staying with you, then, because that's what I want to do."

"Are you sure," Hermione asked, sounding highly suspicious.

"Of course I am," Harry answered.

"Why, though? It's not like I'm all that interesting or anything."

"To me you are," Harry stated simply, shrugging his shoulders, "and I like spending time with you."

Hermione smiled up at him before a look of remembrance dashed into her eyes.

"What is it," Harry asked, noticing her rapid transformation.

"Before we go, I think I'd like to visit a bookstore," Hermione said, "I haven't read anything for some time now."

"Okay," Harry replied, "shall we go then?"

Hermione nodded her head before she took the lead, as Harry followed close behind her. Once again, however, the eyes of shoppers in Diagon Alley turned to face them, leading Harry to walk in-step with Hermione, their clothed shoulders brushing each other on solidarity.

They strolled amidst a cool breeze before Hermione walked into Flourish and Blotts. The pair traveled alone among the various bookshelves that towered towards the ceiling, before they met back up at the front of the store.

Harry saw that Hermione had picked up a thick volume entitled _The Magical Brethren and its Secret Tomes_ tucked against her chest. Harry gave the book a curious look but didn't question Hermione's choice, as he had picked out a magazine called _Quidditch's Greatest Matches and Rivals of the Age_.

"Here Hermione, I'll pay for these," Harry said, making to grab her book from her.

"No, Harry, it's fine," she replied.

"Hermione, please let me pay for it," Harry responded to her, "I want to. You paid for our things before now let me return the favor."

After a moment of hesitation, Hermione wearily handed over her book to Harry before he paid for it, and the two left the store with Harry carrying a bag in his hand containing their purchased items. They then decided to have a spot of lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, where they were again attacked by numerous pairs of staring eyeballs, before Harry disapparated them both back to Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow, away from prying and unwanted gazes.

As the afternoon wore on, Harry and Hermione spent much of their time in the living room of the home, reading over their respective titles. At one time, Harry stood up from the couch he and Hermione were occupying to make his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a Double Decker and journeyed back to the living room.

He tore open his candy bar, split it in half, and offered it to Hermione, who was curled up against one side of the couch, with her bulky book resting against her folded knees.

She looked up at Harry's hand holding half the chocolate bar before her face screwed up in disgust and commented, "Harry, those are gross."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and said, "I don't think so," before he started munching away, as whipped nougat, cereal crispies, and milk chocolate flavors burst inside his mouth, making him hum in appreciation.

"You sure you don't want any, Hermione," Harry asked.

She looked up at him again and shook her head from side to side wordlessly.

However, a thought suddenly occurred to Harry as he inquired, "Hermione, have you actually ever tried a Double Decker?"

At this, Hermione's cheeks flared a light pink as she whispered, "Well, not really, no."

"Then how can you say that they are gross," Harry questioned with wide eyes.

She shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "That's what mum and dad said. They were particularly careful about what I ate since they were dentists and all."

Harry scooted closer to Hermione. He broke off a smaller piece of the chocolate bar, offered it to Hermione and said, "Try it."

She looked at it before she shook her head again, saying, "No, that's alright, Harry."

As her eyes turned back towards her book, Harry grabbed her book away from her, to which she shouted, "Harry!" Her tone, however, was rather playful.

"Hermione, just taste this small piece and I'll give you your book back. It's not like it's going to hurt or anything," he goaded, holding the piece of candy in front of her.

She made a show of rolling her eyes but taking the piece of chocolate nonetheless, making Harry smirk. Hermione looked at it wearily before carefully putting it in her mouth, almost as if she was scared of it.

After she chewed, Harry tried to read her facial features, but realized that he was unable to do so. When Hermione kept silent, Harry sighed teasingly before he asked, "Well, what d'you think of it?"

She seemed to think his question over longer than necessary before she replied slowly, "Well…its smooth…but it's also heavy, in a way."

Harry cocked his head at her, before he questioned, "So do you like it or not?"

"It's okay, I guess," Hermione answered him, "but it's nothing extraordinary."

"Really," Harry continued, quite flabbergasted, "nothing extraordinary, huh?"

"No," Hermione responded simply. "I've tasted better things before."

Harry shook his head from side to side, taking his turn to roll his eyes at her, while he gave her her book back.

"Do you like any candy at all," Harry queried.

"Those Maltesers are pretty good, actually," Hermione answered.

"You mean the ones I picked up at the market a couple of days ago?"

"Yes, those," she said, nodding her head.

"But when did you try 'em? I never saw you eat them?"

"Oh, I snuck in a few here and there," Hermione replied.

"Here and there?"

"A couple before dinner and a couple afterwards," she shrugged.

"And what did you think of them," Harry asked.

"Definitely better than what you just gave me, that's for sure," she responded, though her warm, brown eyes were alight with humor.

As Harry looked over at her, smiling, he again felt this sudden need of wanting Hermione even more erupt inside of him. He was conflicted and confused by these feelings that had rushed over him in waves all throughout the day. But before he could expound over his emotions any further, Hermione closed her book and set it down upon the table.

"Where are you going," Harry asked, looking up at her as she stood to her feet.

"I'm going to prepare some dinner for us," Hermione stated, "I'm started to get a bit hungry."

"I'll help," Harry remarked, closing his Quidditch magazine and setting it next to Hermione's book.

Together, they went into the kitchen, which is when Harry noticed that the grey, moody clouds that had hung over West Country most of the day and some days before, had drifted away, as bright rays of sunshine poured in through the windows of Potter's Cottage.

At once, Harry and Hermione started waving their wands, making various foods and objects magically fly around them.

After cooking a while, Hermione had conjured a medium-sized pan over to the kitchen table where Harry sat waiting, as whiffs of incredible smells filled his nostrils, making his mouth water in beset hunger.

Hermione took a seat across from Harry, as a pan of chicken and mushroom puff pie, a bowl of creamy mashed potatoes, and a large dish of broccoli and carrots, sat between them.

"Do you think I made too much," Hermione asked in a nervous manner, looking down at all the food displayed on the table.

"Not at all," Harry replied, placing a serving of chicken and mushroom puff pie on her plate before placing one on his own, "and any food that we don't finish we can save for another day, that way, we won't have to cook again."

"That's true," Hermione said, grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes, "oh, and Harry, make sure you eat some broccoli and carrots."

"Why did you prepare both broccoli and carrots," Harry questioned, placing only a marginal amount of vegetables upon his plate.

"Well it's better if we start eating healthier, don't you think? I mean, you did that chocolate bar earlier today," Hermione reasoned.

"It was a pretty small chocolate bar," Harry grumbled, somewhat annoyed that Hermione was practically forcing him to eat his vegetables.

However, Harry found that he couldn't stay annoyed at her for too long for the food was absolutely delicious, making his stomach rumble its approval.

"Harry," Hermione started, in a fairly weary manner making Harry look up at her, "what do you think about what Andromeda told us earlier today?"

"Which part," Harry asked, cocking his head slightly to one side.

"About the woman and the raven," she answered.

Harry licked his lips before he responded, "I dunno exactly. I mean, it's like I told you back in Castle Combe: everything that's happened doesn't really add up…nothing fits together."

Hermione nodded her before she observed in a small voice, "Do you think we should go?"

"Go where?"

"Go and see what's behind that painting of the woman and the raven?"

Harry gave Hermione a powerful look, ignoring the still sweet-smelling puff of aromas their food was sending up to them. Truthfully, the moment Andromeda said that a magical community lay behind the painting, Harry wanted to go and check it out. However, he had his doubts if it was safe, considering what has happened to the couple over the past week.

"Harry, what do you think," Hermione asked.

"It might not be safe," he replied, "I don't want to put you in harm's way, Hermione."

"I thought you might say that," she commented.

"Well it's true," Harry responded defensively, "I told you before that I'm going to keep you safe."

"But your parents went there before," Hermione pointed out, after she swallowed a piece of broccoli, "I don't think it's that dangerous."

"Hermione, you can't know that for certain," Harry reasoned, "we don't know that it'll be safe."

"There's only way to find out then, Harry," Hermione said.

He sighed, though he would be lying to himself if he said that he wasn't interested in what lied behind the graffiti art of the woman and the raven; it sparked his curiosity like a waiting flame waiting to burn.

Harry thought hard, not wanting to lead them into danger yet he had a yearning desire to know what magical secrets Godric's Hollow harbored.

"Fine," Harry replied after a moment, "we'll go tomorrow. But, Hermione, I don't have a good feeling about this. Why do you want to go so bad anyway?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders at his question and said simply, "I'm curious."

Harry nodded his head as he and Hermione finished off their dinner discussing the possibilities of what may exactly lie behind the painting of the woman and the raven.

Soon after they finished dinner, Harry and Hermione cleaned up the kitchen together, packaging away leftover food. The pair then decided to take a walk around the quiet village, just as the final rays of the sun made the small mingling of stray clouds dazzle in a gold shimmer, as the rest of the sky was cast in a dark blue sea of enchantment, so inviting and so peaceful.

The two teens returned to Potter's Cottage much later than expected, as Harry's suggestion of a quick walk stretched into an hour walk, as the pair talked about nothing and everything, and all else in between. Harry cherished these conversations he had with Hermione. Not long ago, Harry was thinking about the conversations he had had with Hermione back and Hogwarts and was surprised to learn that conversations held between just the two of them hadn't been as much as he initially thought. Much of their talk had to do with discussing Voldemort or school work; it was rare for the two of them to talk about much else and Harry felt like maybe it was wasteful not to talk to Hermione just to talk.

As these thoughts kept digging holes inside his head, he opened the wooden gate for Hermione to step through, as they both entered the house together. Harry locked the front door before he and Hermione headed off to separate loo's to get ready for the night ahead.

After Harry took a quick shower and brushed his teeth, he headed back to his bedroom and changed into his customary nightwear: a plain, white t-shirt while midnight blue bottoms that hugged his ankles.

However, before he could do anything else, Hermione's voice yelled about, "Harry, could you come down here for a minute?"

Harry walked out of his room and then made his way down the stairs. He strolled through the darkened living room and into the dim kitchen, where he saw that Hermione was standing in front of the sink, looking out of the window that was situated above it.

"Hermione, what's wrong," Harry asked.

She turned around to face with a glass of water in her hand before she beckoned him closer to her. He walked over as she said, "Harry, I think there's some sort of shed out back."

"What," Harry asked, completely perplexed.

The pair stood at the window of the kitchen, looking out at the thick brush of trees that stood behind the cottage, which initiated the forest beyond.

"I can't see anything," Harry said after a moment.

"Let's go outside, then," Hermione suggested, setting her glass of water down on the counter, and marching out the back door, with Harry at her heels.

The pair stepped out onto a tiny, square wooden deck, and trudged down the three steps and onto the grass below.

"When I was at the kitchen, I thought I saw something that looked like a window of some sort through the trees," Hermione told Harry, as the couple crept closer to the perimeter of the forest. "But I've never seen it before…not that I was looking for anything."

Harry and Hermione passed over the forests' borderline, as the only sound that reached the pair's ears was the combination of leaves and grass that crunched underneath their footfalls. The moon and stars up above seemed to have expanded thrice its normal sizes under the coverage of the looming trees. Harry and Hermione seemed to be explorers seeking shelter in the dead of night, like hunters feeding off of distilled fear of its prey lurking nearby.

" _LUMOS_ ," Hermione muttered suddenly, igniting her wand tip, as Harry soon followed suit.

After the pair passed by two thick tree trunks, they entered a small clearing, where Harry was surprised to see that Hermione's words rang with truth: a small shack stood in the middle of this small clearing, surrounded by the darkness that hid behind the trees. It looked like a tree house had fallen from its perch from high above, and plunked down onto the forest floor, where it was forgotten, left to rust among the grass, leaves, and dirt that would consume it after time had fallen to waste.

"What is this," Harry wondered aloud. He saw that the shack had only four walls, its outside made of wood, while its shingled roof slanted off in opposite directions from one another, as a mound of leaves was situated atop of it. There were two small, square windows that stood on both sides of the ivy-covered, maroon-colored door.

Harry looked over at Hermione curiously, as he saw that her eyebrows were nearly into her hairline, surprised that they had never noticed something like this before.

As Harry moved forward, Hermione suddenly said, "Harry, wait!"

He turned around and asked, "What?"

"It could be dangerous," she replied in an alert tone.

He nodded over at her before he continued his trek towards this small cabin. He grasped the doorknob only to find it locked.

" _ALOHOMORA_ ," he whispered, as the door suddenly unlocked. Harry pushed it open as it creaked quite loudly, the sound echoing off into the black night.

Harry looked behind him again and said, "Hermione, come on. It's okay."

She moved forward, though her face displayed a look of concern. Once she was next to Harry, he grabbed her hand and the pair made their way inside.

As they held their lit wands higher into the air, their eyes saw that a small table with two chairs flanking each side was situated against one wall, while a comfortable-looking bed was set against the opposite wall. Light wood panels hugged the shed's interior as an armchair stood in one corner as two candles stood atop of each of the two window sills. For a small home near the edge of the woods, Harry was unimpressed with the home's décor as he noticed that everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Hermione seemed to read his mind as she said, " _TERGEO MAXIMA_ ," and the dust disappeared away.

"What do you think this is, Hermione," Harry asked, looking around the small interior before his eyes met hers.

"I don't know," she whispered, her head shaking from side to side slowly, "but it's quite cozy, isn't it?"

"You think so," Harry questioned, to which Hermione nodded her head at him in answer.

"D'you think this belong to my mum and dad?"

"I'm positive it did," she replied.

"How do you know?"

"Well, Potter's Cottage is the only house on this lane of Godric's Hollow," Hermione started, nodding her back towards the home, "and this doesn't look like a habitable home for anyone; there's no kitchen or bathroom."

"It's strange," Harry remarked, taking another sweeping look of the inside, "very strange."

Hermione trained her wand over at one set of candles by the window as she said, " _INCENDIO_." A fire started to flame on one set of candles as the entire home was cast in a yellow glow. Hermione extinguished her wand tip as she sat down atop the bed. Harry followed suit as he took a seat next to her.

"Actually, this is kind of interesting," Hermione started, making Harry turn to look at her, "this acts like a hideout of sorts."

"I guess," Harry replied, "but I kind of wanted to know if it really belonged to my parents and what it was used for, wouldn't you?"

"Of course," Hermione responded, "most definitely. I wonder if your parents built it or if it was just here all this time?"

"I dunno," he reasoned as he continued to look down at Hermione, "but I wondered what they used it for. It's such a tiny place."

As a comfortable silence settled over the pair, a warm feeling seemed to radiate off of Hermione and fall unto Harry who suddenly had that strange rush of emotions wash over him again. He looked over at Hermione and he found that was hypnotized by her at that moment: the way she sat on the bed next to him, the way a faint smiled ghosted her mouth, the way her brown hair partially cascaded over her shoulder while the rest fell down her back. Harry found that he could not move, and if he was to be completely honest with himself, he didn't want to move.

Noticing him staring at her, Hermione turned her gaze to look at him, as she asked, "What is it, Harry?"

For some reason, Harry couldn't find the words to speak his mind. Instead, he leaned down and placed his lips against hers. They both closed their eyes as Harry unexpectedly felt a substantial amount of passion sprint into his heart. Having this feeling inside of him all day, Harry felt lightheaded that these emotions was culminating into some sort of event with Hermione, here and now.

Harry broke the kiss only for his lips to travel down Hermione's neck. A quiet moan purred in the back of her throat which made Harry's hair stand on end in excitement. As the pair turned to face each other while sitting on the bed, Harry's hand guided over to her waist as her hands wrung his shirt between her tightening grip.

Harry didn't know where this sudden sensation came from, but he found himself wanted more with Hermione…he found himself itching for more than a snog.

Suddenly, Hermione was slowly falling back onto the mattress, as Harry followed, his lips relentless against her neck.

One of Hermione's hands moved off of Harry's shirt and instead, wound its way into his wild, jet-black hair, just as Harry moved to plant kisses on the other side of Hermione's neck, as she turned her head to give him better access, with her eyes closed.

Harry then moved back to Hermione's lips and kissed her as passionately as he could, as he poured his every feeling he held for Hermione into his kiss. Their lips moved with each other in complete synchronization as Harry fully moved on top of Hermione, pinning her underneath him as they continued their passionate kiss.

Harry felt himself grow warm as he broke their mouth-to-mouth contact, pulled slightly away from her, and yanked off his shirt. Harry let it fall to the floor as he lowed himself on top of her again, resuming his kiss with her.

Harry's heart was racing faster than the speed of light as Hermione wound her right leg in between his. Her hands rested over his shoulders as Harry kissed both of Hermione's cheeks before he started gently sucking her neck, as Hermione groaned, making Harry smile. He then traced kisses up her jaw line as his hands traveled down to her leg that was entangled with his.

His lips found her own again before he decided that he still wanted more. Taking a risk, Harry moved his tongue against her lips quickly. Hermione gasped in surprise before she repeated his actions. His heart rate accelerated as Harry slipped his tongue completely inside Hermione's mouth. As they hummed in a heightened, sensual arousal, Hermione suddenly planted her hands on Harry's bare chest and gently pushed him away.

He opened his eyes as his breathing was deeply uneven. His hands were planted on either side of Hermione's shoulders, as he noticed that their legs were still entwined with each other.

Harry looked down and saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen before: Hermione's hair was framed around her like a frizzy halo. Her cheeks were flushed a deep shade of red as her eyes were alight with excitement, while her chest was rising and falling rather quickly.

She sat up against him and said against his lips, "We need to stop before we take it too far." With that being said, she kissed him deeply, as Harry was sure he was to pass out from how good it felt for her lips to be moving against his own. Without breaking contact, Harry turned around and maneuvered Hermione into his lap. He squeezed her waist in adoration while her hands were resting against his upper arms. Their noses brushed one another's before Hermione broke their kiss.

She got up from his lap, as he was then keenly aware of his teenage male tendencies protruding from below his navel. Embarrassed, Harry's entire face was blanketed in a deep red as he avoided Hermione's eyes and picked up his wrinkled shirt from off the floor and put it back on.

"I'm sorry Hermione, I didn't mean for it to go that far," Harry said wearily, still not meeting her eyes, though he was distinctly aware that he did not have an ounce of regret over what had just transpired between the two of them.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Harry…it takes two to do what we just did," she replied softly, her voice rather gruff.

"I can't really explain it but all day today I had these strange feelings and emotions inside of me that made me want to kiss you more and more," Harry nearly whispered, slightly mortified, as if he was trying to condone his actions. "I don't know what it was."

As Hermione remained silent, Harry finally looked up at her and asked, "D'you regret it…what we just did?"

Harry held his breath as he waited, looking up at her expectantly.

After what seemed like an eternity, she shook her head from side to side and said, "No, I don't. Harry, my feelings for you are strong. I think my feelings for you are more than just a silly little crush…it has grown beyond that level. After that night when we first kissed, I didn't know how you felt but I didn't want to push anything that you weren't comfortable with."

Harry looked over at her and said, "I know, Hermione, that what I have for you is a lot more than a crush, but I don't exactly know what it is. So how about we take whatever is going on between us one step at a time?"

At his words, Hermione smiled at him and said, "That sounds perfect."

Harry than visibly relaxed as his let out a long breath, while his shoulders slouched downward. "D'you think it's time that we head to bed?"

"Yeah," Hermione agreed as she laughed lightly, as they both stood to their feet after grabbing their wands. However, before Hermione could walk away from him, Harry gently grabbed her wrist and whirled her around to face him. Without hesitating, he bent down and let his lips enmesh with hers. For a long moment, they stood there, in the yellow glow of the burning candles, kissing each other passionately. Harry broke the kiss, but not before he stole another two quick kisses against her lips.

"Let's go," Harry said rather huskily, as he grabbed Hermione's hand in his. Before they made their way out of the hidden forest cabin, Hermione bent down and blew out the candles, killing its flames.

Harry shut the ivory-covered door after Hermione exited, and together, the pair made their way back towards Potter's Cottage, going in through the back door and entering into the kitchen.

As Harry extinguished the kitchen light, Hermione turned to him and asked, "Harry, do you think it would alright if we slept down in the living room again?" Her cheeks flushed deeply as she continued, "I can't really explain it but I don't feel like being apart from you right now."

He smiled over at her as he said, "I don't want to be away from you either."

They moved into the living room where Harry pushed the table that carried Hermione's book and his Quidditch magazine off to the side and waved his wand, making two mattresses appear next to each other, along with two sets of pillows, sheets, and blankets.

Harry settled down on one mattress while Hermione took the other, as they lay down and faced each other. However, Harry felt quite unhappy, as he thought the distance between him and Hermione was a galaxy apart. Mustering his Gryffindor courage, Harry said into the darkness, "Hermione, do you trust me?"

She looked over at him in the dark shadows, as she said, "Yeah…why?"

Harry scooted over closer to Hermione and grabbed her left hand in his right. He heard her laugh quietly into the darkness, the sounds like a host of heavenly sounds to his ears.

"Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry."

As Harry and Hermione drifted off into a peaceful sleep, they didn't know that they would never fall asleep in peace again for a very long time.

* * *

Author's Note: I tried to fit a lot in Part 3's opening so hopefully it wasn't too rushed. Chapter 16 will be posted this Saturday night. Thanks for reading.


	16. Burnt Bridges

Chapter 16: Burnt Bridges

Harry and Hermione were walking side-by-side, their shoulders barely brushing, as they headed down the empty, night lane away from Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow in purposefully strides. A strong wind overtook the pair, ruffling Harry's jet-black hair while Hermione's frizzy mane whipped behind her. Strewn leaves that fell from their place in the trees above blew around Harry and Hermione's feet in a circular motion, almost as if it was setting in motion a ground tornado. The streetlights shone brightly down upon the couple, as the moon and the stars seemed to have been blown out, rendering the night sky a black hole of the unknown.

Harry found that he could not turn his head to look at Hermione, for that was what he most wanted to do, but something kept his head transfixed forward. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest, as if a black panther was waiting to be unleashed from its decades-long imprisonment, while the lines of his hands had beads of sweat tracing along its intricate interface of patterns. He breathed in deeply through his nose, taking in the sweet, fresh air of the summer night in West Country.

Harry and Hermione were all alone, as Godric's Hollow seemed to be deserted and void of any and all people. Harry, however, did not find this odd at all, but instead, he found this to be comforting of sorts. It was like he and Hermione were the last two living souls walking the earth, and quite frankly, the thought didn't perturb him; nothing did, as long as Hermione was with him. Another wind rustled about the pair, as Harry felt reenergized by the night's offerings. He breathed in deeply again when the pair entered into the main part of the village.

Walking past the war memorial without a backward glance, Harry and Hermione ventured past two-story empty buildings, until Harry turned down a darkened alleyway, between two, white-bricked buildings, with Hermione right on his heels. The alley had a small pool of water in its center, which the pair maneuvered around, while a dim light attached to one of the buildings shone from up above them, casting them in a single spotlight, as if they were to be the entertainers in the hours of darkness.

Harry walked down the alley several feet before he stopped, as on his left, his bright, green eyes fell upon what he was looking for…what his heart was searching for: the painting of the woman and the raven. The woman's glossy, icy blue eyes peered over at Harry and Hermione with, what seemed to be, a sense of joy and wonderment, while the black raven that was sitting atop the woman's shoulder looked more distrustful of the two.

As excitement continued to bubble up in the pit of his stomach, Harry took out his wand and tapped it three times against the painting, before he whispered, "Potter, party of two." After those words were spoken, the woman blinked once as the raven flew off her shoulder, its black and diamond wings carrying it out of the picture. The woman nodded once before she too disappeared from plain sight, as the painting suddenly turned into the smooth surface of a large door. The door was a head taller than Harry and Hermione, while its width was wide enough for the two of them to pass through it with ease.

With his heart lodged in his throat, Harry could hear his heart beats thumping in his ears, while he could feel Hermione breathing in quickly behind him. Ever so cautiously, Harry reached his hand down and pressed it against the cool surface of the doorknob. Without any further hesitation, he turned it, and he pushed it open. He took one step over the threshold when…

 _TAP. TAP. TAP._

Harry's eyes popped open to a tapping sound that had shaken him from his deepening dream. He blinked several times before he stretched his arms high over his head. His breathing was shallow as he briefly remembered what his dream entailed: him and Hermione going beyond the portrait of the woman and the raven. They were both there, standing before the picture, and Harry had opened the door! But, what had woke him up?

 _TAP. TAP. TAP._

Harry sat up on his mattress and looked around. For a quick second, he thought that he was still dreaming for sitting on the sill of one of the living room's windows, sat Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, with an envelope clutched within its beak. Harry sighed quietly as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes before reaching his hand over to the room's nearby table, grabbed his wand, and flicked it at the window, making the glass pane fly open to let in the owl.

Pigwidgeon fluttered inside as he flew over and situated himself onto Harry's lap, and dropped the envelope onto him. Harry stroke the bird for a few seconds, as his mind drifted over to his own bird that he had lost during the war, Hedwig. He missed her snowy, white feathers and her piercing yellow eyes, as it seemed as if Hedwig had died a lifetime ago. In truth, Harry missed her soundly. His sole animal companion he had had with him ever since he had turned eleven years old was ripped off of the face of earth in a green burst of light, the killing curse that wasn't meant for his beautiful owl, but it was meant for him instead. Her life had ended in span of just several seconds as he had not even given much thought to her afterwards, Harry thought to himself rather uncomfortably.

Harry picked up the letter the bird had delivered wearily, as he remembered the recent letters he and Hermione had been given from the residents of The Burrow. Harry picked up his round glasses from off of the table and put them onto his face as he looked at the envelope's face and saw the heading, _To Harry and Hermione_ , scrawled upon it. As Harry made to open it, Pigwidgeon nipped at his fingers.

"Ouch," Harry yelped quietly as to not wake Hermione, "what'd you do that for?"

In answer, Pidgwidgeon bit Harry's fingers again. Harry scrutinized the bird before a thought came to him.

"You want a snack, don't you," he asked, as Pigwidgeon fluttered his wings again as he took a small flight onto Harry's shoulders.

He sighed as he put the unread envelope aside, moved his covers off of him, and got up from his mattress, and made his way into the kitchen. Harry looked through one cabinet as he barely registered the bright sunshine that was filling the kitchen with a comforting radiance.

Harry took down a now half-empty box of maltesers from one of the cabinet's shelves. He extracted two balls from the box and held it in the palm of his hand. Pigwidgeon hooted somewhat excitedly before he flew down and came to rest on Harry's arm.

The bird quickly devoured the two small chocolate balls before he looked back up at Harry.

Harry looked back at the bird as he said, "What?"

When the bird didn't respond, Harry made it put the box of maltesers back in the cabinet when Pigwidgeon pinched at his fingers again.

Harry looked over at the bird again and asked, "You want another, don't you?"

The bird gave another small hoot, while Harry took out another two maltesers and offered them to the owl, which he accepted graciously.

Pigwidgeon then flew back in the living room as Harry put the box of candy back into the cupboard where he took it from. However, before he could turn back to make his way into the living room, his eyes fell upon the shed that he and Hermione had found then night before. It was wonder to Harry how he never spotted it previously, as it seemed rather apparent that a small shack was situated between the trees of the woods that made up the backyard of Potter's Cottage.

Harry's mind then fell upon the actions he and Hermione had underwent late last night. He felt his face flush as he remembered his lips on hers, and how she moaned in pleasure, which further increased his own building and raucous arousal. Secretly, Harry promised to himself at that moment that last night would be the first of many nights spent with Hermione, compromised in such passionate explorations.

Smiling to himself, Harry opened another cupboard and took down two tea cups, while he started to boil water. As he crossed his arms over his chest, his thoughts raced back to the bits and pieces he retained from his dream. Although Harry and Hermione planned to go to the portrait of the woman and the raven later that day, Harry was running high on nervousness laced with eagerness and apprehension.

Ever since Andromeda had told him and Hermione just one day ago that another magical community lay behind the picture, Harry was quite keen on visiting it. However, the only thing that held him back was he didn't know if it was safe. The events that have unfolded since the end of the war seemed to involve a black crow of sorts, which made Harry's stomach overturn at the possibility that whatever is behind the painting is dangerous.

The last thing Harry wanted to happen was for Hermione to be put in harm's way...he cared for her far too much for that to take place. It was true that Harry now saw Hermione far more than his best friend and he had admitted to her last night that what he felt for Hermione was more than just a simple crush…cupid's bows and arrows be damned.

It was hard to explain, but whenever Harry saw Hermione, his heart seemed to expand twice its normal size with pure joy and adoration. Nothing could even compare to the magnitude of importance that Hermione had in Harry's life. He knew that he would do anything for her, and he would do anything to protect her from harm. If he was to be frank, Hermione's life seemed to have turned upside down after the end of the war, just when Harry assumed that she thought her life would return to a sense of normalcy. Of course, Harry inwardly thought with bitterness, sometimes our thoughts, hopes, and dreams of the future are shattered in mere seconds of obscurity, as our lives are never to be the same again.

But something was different with Hermione now, and it was changing day by day. Harry was hesitant to admit it, but could it be true that he and Hermione could build a home together? Could that idea of Harry's be plausible in the foreseeable future…in any future? He didn't know, but he was set on finding out sooner rather than later.

A piercing shrill altered Harry that the tea was ready as he quickly poured the contents into two cups and brought them back to the living room, where he set them down upon the table as he saw that Hermione was still fast asleep. He saw that Hermione's frizzy hair was displayed over her two pillows that she stacked on top of one another, while her left arm hung lazily over the mattress's blanket. She was turned on one side, facing Harry's now-vacant mattress, while her right arm seemed to be grasping at his pillow.

Harry smirked down at her as she seemed to be in a comatose state of peace and harmony. Although the tea was sure to get cold, Harry couldn't bring himself to wake Hermione. Instead, he settled back down on his mattress, turned over on his side to face her, and just stared at her. He studied her features, as he noticed things he had never noticed before of her, like the fact that her nose was quite small, or how her eyebrows curved down the outer edge of her eye socket. Her mouth was situated in a small smile, while her chest rose and fell calmly.

As Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, relaxed on this early morning, Pigwidgeon hopped over onto Hermione's mattress and started gently nibbling on her exposed ear.

As she stirred, Harry pushed the bird away, saying softly, "Pig, stop that!"

However, the owl paid no attention to Harry as he continued to nibble at Hermione's ear, as she started giggling.

"Get away," Harry said a bit more loudly, pushing the owl away from Hermione again.

At the sound of Harry's voice, Hermione's eyes opened. The two teenagers stared at each other for a long moment as a loud hush issued between them.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said, smiling over at him.

In response, Harry scooted over to her and planted a loving kiss against her lips. He pulled away after an extended minute, before he kissed her forehead, and rolled her in his arms and against his chest.

"'Morning," Harry finally replied, as he felt her sigh against him.

As the two stayed like this, Pigwidgeon suddenly jumped on top of the pair, much to Harry's annoyance.

"Harry, what is Ron's owl doing here," Hermione asked, her voice slightly muffled against his upper body.

"He was waiting on the window," Harry responded, "and he brought a letter with him."

"From Ron?"

"I think so but I haven't opened it yet," Harry replied, "I was waiting for you."

"Harry, you don't have to wait for me to read anything," Hermione responded.

"Well the letter is addressed to both me and you," Harry told her, "now get off, Pig."

The owl seemed to understand Harry's statement as he hopped down off the pair, as they both sat up.

"Here, I made us some tea," Harry remarked, as he reached over to the table and handed Hermione one cup while he took the other in his hand. He then grabbed the envelope and tore it open with his free hand as he held the piece of parchment between them so that they could read it together:

 _To Harry and Hermione,_

 _I know this is strange getting a letter from me when we haven't spoken in a while, but I want to talk to you guys. I guess you two are probably uncomfortable with coming to The Burrow, so I'd like to know if you would rather meet in Diagon Alley sometime this afternoon? I don't want to meet just to argue; I just want a chance to explain myself. Hopefully, I'll you see soon._

 _Ron_

Harry scrutinized Ron's short letter, as if trying to detect what Ron had said held an ounce of truth. Harry remembered that Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley had been thoroughly displeased with Harry and Hermione the last time they were all together at The Burrow. In Harry's mind, however, ever since he had officially ended things with Ginny, and Hermione had cleared the air with Ron, Harry had never been happier.

"What do you think about this, Harry," Hermione asked, looking over at him.

"I dunno," he said, taking a sip from his mug, "maybe Ron really does want to see us?"

"Maybe," Hermione said, mulling the thought over in her head, "it just seems strange that he would all of a sudden send a letter to us after we haven't spoken with him for a week."

"I think we should give him a chance, Hermione," Harry said, "and see what he has to say."

She nodded her head at him before she remarked, "But do you think we could somewhere other than Diagon Alley? I don't think I fancy going back there and having everyone staring at us again."

Harry smirked over at her before he nodded his head, "Okay, but where do you suggest we go, then? And don't say Hogwarts," Harry added, giving Hermione a hard look.

"Why not Hogwarts," Hermione asked; by her tone of voice, Harry imagined that if he and Hermione were standing during their current conversation, Hermione would have placed her hands on her hips in a show of an incredulousness.

"Hermione, you'll probably be tempted to do some repairs over there," Harry argued, "and how many times do I have to tell you: you need your rest."

"Honestly, Harry, it's not like I'll be repairing walls or anything-," before she could finish, however, Harry cut her off.

"That's right because we're not going to Hogwarts."

She huffed in annoyance as Harry continued to look over at her. She drank from her mug after a moment, showing defiance by not looking back at him, although he knew she could sense him staring.

"Well, if not Hogwarts, how about Grimmauld Place," Hermione offered, though her voice still hinted with irritation, "we haven't been there for some time."

"That sounds good," Harry said, nodding his head in agreement, "let me write Ron back to let him know." As Harry got up from the mattress, he looked down at Hermione and asked, "Does noon sound good to you?"

She looked up at him and answered with a nod of her head.

"Okay, I'll be right back," Harry stated, before he quickly dashed up the staircase, with Ron's letter in one hand and his mug of tea in the other. He made his way into his bedroom and took out a quill and ink from his trunk.

 _Ron,_

 _Meet us at Grimmauld Place at noon._

 _Harry and Hermione_

Harry looked down at his short message with a shrug of his shoulders, coming to terms with the fact that he didn't think there was anything else to say to Ron at the moment as they were to meet him in several short hours.

Harry came back down the staircase, folded up the parchment, stuffed it back in the envelope, and gave it to Pigwidgeon.

"Here you go," Harry said to the owl.

Pigwidgeon looked up at Harry and gave him a good-mannered _HOOT_ but he spread his wings and flew out of the open window, leaving Harry and Hermione alone once more within the confines of Potter's Cottage.

Harry took a seat next to Hermione, as she still had not moved off of her mattress. With his mug in one hand, Harry wrapped his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her against him, as the couple sat atop of flattened pillows, messy bed sheets, and pulled-back blankets.

"What do you think Ron wants to say to us," Hermione asked.

"I have no idea," Harry replied quietly, his mind racking his brain for any sort of understanding as to why Ron suddenly asked to meet him and Hermione.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Why didn't we think to ask Ron to come here to Potter's Cottage to meet us?"

Harry thought over Hermione's question and reasoned that it was valid. Truthfully, to Harry, he wanted Potter's Cottage to be his and Hermione's getaway when they wanted to escape from other people. Although many witches and wizards knew of the small home, the cottage acted as Harry and Hermione's only place in which they could both call it their own, almost as if it was they own private hideout. He didn't want anyone else to come to the cottage for the thought of ruining its sphere of closeness Harry had with Hermione.

"Harry," Hermione repeated when he didn't answer.

"I guess I like the idea of this place being just for you and me," Harry started, with a shrug, "and I don't fancy the idea of anyone else trying to come between us. I want to share Potter's Cottage just with you, Hermione." After Harry thought over his answer, he laughed once, in a hollow manner, and suggested, "I guess that makes me a bit of prat, doesn't it?"

At this, Hermione looked up at Harry with a serious expression on her face.

"Actually, I think that's very sweet of you to say," she remarked.

Harry grinned down at her before they both took their respective sips of tea.

"I know I asked you this before, but have you made a decision about what do you think you are going to do with Grimmauld Place?"

"I think I'll keep it for now," Harry said, "but I don't think that I'll keep it forever. What do you think I should do with it?"

"Do whatever you feel like," Hermione replied calmly, "if you want it, keep it, if you don't, then you're free to do whatever you like with it."

After a silent instant, Hermione steered their conversation over to a new, more pressing topic at hand.

"Harry, we're still going to visit the painting of the woman and the raven today, aren't we," Hermione inquired.

He sighed, and said, "Yeah, I suppose we could, just to see what it's all about. I had a dream about it last night, actually, of the picture of the woman and the raven," Harry clarified after seeing a look of confusion flash over Hermione's face.

"What happened in your dream," she asked, turning her body to look up at him, as he still had his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

He loosened his grip before he replied, "It wasn't really much of anything. All I remember is that we were walking over to the central area of Godric's Hollow, and we slipped between two buildings. Afterwards, we made our way over to the painting and I tapped my wand against it, before it turned into a door."

"And then," Hermione said, willing for Harry to continue his tale.

"And then I woke up," he replied, "I have the same dream every time."

"How many times have you dreamt this," Hermione asked.

"Quite a bit, but I don't know exactly."

"Is it like the Department of Mysteries," Hermione questioned.

"A bit," Harry agreed, "but that was more of a case in which Voldemort wanted the prophecy within the Department of Mysteries, while these are just regular dreams of mine."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding while she continued to lean into Harry's side, while Harry his arm around her. In this position, the pair was more than content, as Harry felt that for once in his life, things were going how he wanted them to proceed.

Far too often before, Harry found that major roadblocks or detours made him take unexpected routes into nothingness, barring him from achieving happiness in his life. But, with Hermione by his side, they were so close with each other, far more than they had even been, and Harry decided that he wanted to grow even closer to her, yet he didn't know how he was to be able to do that. After all, they were only teenagers, even if events they had already undertaken made them seem like adults, decades older than their ages told of them, wondering where their eventual footfalls would lead them.

Harry wound his arm around Hermione tighter and tighter, as she snuggled her head in the crook of his neck. They sat like this on the two mattresses, joined as one, eyeing the rays of sun that was currently flooding the living room of Potter's Cottage.

A thought occurred to Harry, a thought that had struck him in that moment in time. However, he was afraid what that exact thought entailed. He wanted to voice it over to Hermione, but he didn't want to scare her away. He inwardly sighed, as he finished off his tea, and set his mug down on the floor.

Without any reason at all, Harry bent over and kissed Hermione's head. He let his lips linger as he breathed in her sweet smells. After pulling away, Hermione turned her head to look up at him, as they drew steadily nearer. After a hanging moment, their lips met with one another, both tender and gentle. Time transcended itself as Harry and Hermione's lips moved against each other in a distinct display of passion.

They broke apart as Harry traced small kisses down Hermione's jaw before he made to move onto her neck. However, his eyes noticed something which made him stop.

"Hermione, you have something on your neck," Harry said.

"What?"

"On your neck, there's something there," Harry reiterated.

He released his hold on her as she set her mug of tea down and stood to her feet and went into the downstairs loo, in which Harry curiously followed behind.

He found her looking into the oval mirror, her head turned to one side. His eyes fell upon two large bruises coating her neck.

"Harry, I think they're love bites," Hermione exclaimed gently, as her cheeks tinged a light pink color.

"What're love bites," Harry asked, his head slight cocked to one side.

At his question, Hermione said in a rather bashful manner, "Well, they're just how the sound: love bites are when someone kisses another's person neck."

"Oh," was Harry was able to say, remembering how much he had enjoyed kissing Hermione's neck over and over the previous night.

"They don't hurt, do they," Harry questioned in concern.

"No, not at all," Hermione replied, "but I have to cover it up."

"Right," Harry said, not knowing what else to say to her. He left her in the bathroom as Harry walked back in the living room. He picked up his wand and gave it a wave as the mattresses, pillows, sheets, and blankets disappeared, as he moved the table back into its original position, before he carried his and Hermione's tea cups back into the kitchen where he deposited them in the sink.

While still in the kitchen, Harry called out precariously, "Kreacher?"

A small _POP_ was suddenly heard as Kreacher appeared in the kitchen of Potter's Cottage.

"Master called for Kreacher," the house-elf said, bowing so low to the ground that his nose and over-large ears touched the floor.

Harry knelt down on one knee and told him, "Kreacher, me, Hermione, and Ron are all going to Grimmauld Place around noon. D'you think you could prepare us some lunch?"

"What would Master and Master's friends like to eat," Kreacher asked.

"Anything's fine," Harry replied, "don't go through too much trouble for us."

"Kreacher will prepare food for Master and Master's friends," Kreacher drawled, as he gave another low bow, before he disappeared with another _POP_.

Harry then ventured upstairs where he used the loo, before brushing his teeth and changing into a beige t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, ready for the day ahead.

Just before noon, Harry and Hermione gathered in the foyer of the home.

"You ready," Harry asked her, as he noticed that Hermione had effectively covered up her love bites he had given her.

"I think so, although I feel a little nervous," she answered.

"I know what you mean," Harry said with a nod of his head, "it doesn't feel like we're going to see Ron…it feels like we're going to see a stranger, don't you think?"

"Yes," Hermione replied, before she continued on sadly, "but maybe we'll work things out with him today even though things will never really be the same with him again."

"Let's not think about that right now, let's just go and see what he wants," Harry suggested, to which Hermione nodded her head.

Harry then set his hands on her waist and pulled her flush against him as he held onto her lower back while she clutched the back of his upper arms. Without another moment to spare, he disapparated them out of Potter's Cottage and away from Godric's Hollow.

A moment later, they appeared on the doorstep to 12 Grimmauld Place within the borderlines of London. Just after Harry opened the door for Hermione to step through, Ron suddenly appeared with a _POP_ right behind him.

"Ron," Harry said at once, making Hermione turn on the spot, as the pair eyed their friend.

Harry thought that Ron looked the same, although it seemed as if he had grown within the past week. His fiery red hair was slightly long, as it reached his matching-colored eyebrows in the front and went down to shirt collar in the back.

"Harry, Hermione," he said, nodding at both of them in turn.

"Let's go in," Harry suggested, as Ron nodded his head in agreement and stepped past Harry, following Hermione into the cold, dark home.

As Harry shut the door on the outside world, he couldn't help but feel rather awkward around Ron. After not speaking one word to him recently, the friendship they had with each other seemed to have shattered into tiny glass shards, sharp enough to draw blood. It was if they were all walking on scorching hot coals, the skin on the bottom of their feet burning with every step they danced around one another.

Harry stepped around the umbrella stand taken from a severed troll's leg and followed Hermione and Ron down the narrow hallway, past the sleeping portrait of Walburga Black (in which he heard her rather loud snores), past an open door, down several stairs and into the kitchen.

"Good, Master and Master's friends are just in time for lunch," Kreacher croaked, as a powerful whiff of smells slammed into Harry forcefully. He looked over at Ron and saw his eyes light up at the number of plates that were waiting to be devoured by hungry stomachs.

"Let's sit down," Hermione suggested, as Harry noticed that her voice wavered slightly.

Harry and Hermione took a seat next to each other while Ron took a seat across from them. Kreacher set one final plate between them as he asked, "Does Master need anything else?"

"No, but thanks Kreacher, this looks great," Harry told the house-elf, as he saw Ron piling his plate with food out of the corner of his eye. Kreacher gave another low bow before he scampered off, away from the trio.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the three as Harry saw that Hermione kept glancing at Ron somewhat nervously. Harry and Hermione started helping themselves to Kreacher's home-cooked food as the sound of forks and knives clattered around the large kitchen, ricocheting off of the its stone walls, and hammering into Harry's eardrums like nails on a chalkboard.

After minutes of silence, Hermione huffed audibly, set down her fork and knife, and asked, "Ron, are you going to continue to shut us out the entire meal? We didn't come here for a fight."

Ron's eyes found hers just after he took a large bite from a chicken thigh. Ron opened his mouth to answer before Hermione intervened and said, "Actually, you can swallow what you have in your mouth."

Ron chewed a bit more before he took an almighty swallow and said, "Sorry, I was just hungry."

Harry thought that this was an odd comment for Ron to make since Ron was hungry most of the time anyway.

"That's quite all right but what did you want to talk to us about," Hermione asked.

Ron stared down at his plate for a long moment before he set his chicken thigh down and said, "I wanted to apologize, actually."

Harry and Hermione stole a look of surprise from one another before they turned their attention back on Ron.

"Just hear me out, okay? Back when we first met each other on the Hogwarts Express, I was excited about going to Hogwarts after my brothers spent years talking and gloating about it. Over time, I was glad that we all became friends even though we occasionally had our differences heard. Before we left for the horcrux hunt, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The only time I've ever been away from home was while I was Hogwarts, or that one time when we visited Bill in Egypt. I didn't know what it was like on the run, I didn't know how much I would miss home.

"Anyway, after we came back to Hogwarts, I was surprised but happy when you kissed me, Hermione. I guess that before, I didn't really understand my feelings for you; one moment I wanted to be with you, but the next moment, I didn't think I could get far enough away from you. I was confused and nothing made much sense. That kiss you gave me, though, that made sense. It felt like for the first time that I've known you, things just fell together on its own.

"I was happy with it, and by that time, I had already moved past the weirdness of Harry and Ginny dating, so I was okay with everything. But after the battle and losing Fred, everything kind of broke apart. You and Harry disappeared, with no one having any idea where you two had gone. I understood that though, because I know how you both are with each other."

At this, Ron paused to gather his thoughts before he continued.

"I just didn't expect you guys to, you know, start seeing each other. I was always afraid that you two would end up with each other and seeing that come true, I didn't feel good about it."

"Ron, this thing between me and Hermione didn't happen overnight," Harry said, "it happened over time."

Ron nodded over at Harry, understanding his words, before he asked, "When did you know that you liked each other?"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise at his question, as Ron had asked them so bluntly.

Before Harry could answer, Hermione cut in and said, "It was after you had left." Harry turned to look at Hermione, his mind on overdrive; he felt his heart flutter within his chest when she looked over at him before turning her attention back to Ron. "I touched his hair one time as I walked by him and that's when everything changed," Hermione finished.

After Ron looked thoroughly downcast at this bit of news, Hermione continued, "Ron, we never meant for it to happen and I don't know why it did…it just did. But we didn't act upon what we felt at that time because we were under so much stress and pressure and Voldemort was still alive."

Harry noticed that Ron still shuddered at the mention of the dark wizard's name.

"I know you guys didn't mean for it to happen," Ron responded, his voice low, "but I guess it was meant to be."

"What do you mean," Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged his shoulders as he said, "You two were always close, especially during Hogwarts. Harry was the one who thought about saving you Hermione, from that mountain troll during the Halloween Feast in our first year. Harry was the one who suggested that we visit you while you were petrified in the hospital wing during our second year. You went back in time with Harry to save both Sirius and Buckbeak back in third year. You were the only one, Hermione, that believed in Harry when he said that he didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire during our fourth year. You helped Harry, Hermione, by giving Rita Skeeter the interview during our fifth year about what happened that night back in the graveyard when You-Know-Who returned. And in sixth year, you went to Harry when I was acting like a right git to you. Everything with the two of you fits together…I was just hoping that nothing would come out of that."

Harry was silent for a long time as he thought over Ron's words. Never before had Ron made so much sense than he did at that moment, Harry mentally noted.

"It's true then, you and Harry are together," Ron asked, looking over at Hermione.

Hermione regarded him for a moment before she nodded her head wordlessly in answer at him.

"That's what the papers have been saying," Ron mumbled.

"Papers? What papers," Hermione asked.

"Have you two not seen the Daily Prophet recently," Ron questioned.

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads back and forth in reply.

"You're barking! There are so many stories going on about you two in the Prophet. I didn't think most of them were true but I didn't even know you two hadn't heard any of it!"

"What kind of stories is the Prophet lying about now," Harry asked, his voice mixed with harshness.

"Well, some of the more bizarre ones talk about how Hermione is pregnant with your child, while another one says that you two already have two kids together with another on the way," Ron told them, in which Harry saw that Hermione's face drained of all color, "but I don't think anyone believed in those. Another story had the two of you married, while another one talked about love potions Hermione was giving to you, Harry."

Harry looked over at Hermione to see that the color had not returned to her face. He reached over for her hand that clasped with her other in her lap, and gave it a reassuring squeeze; she gave a faint squeeze back.

"None of those stories are true, Ron," Harry said over to him, "not one."

"Yeah, well tell that to Ginny and mum. The two of them have been going all mental over these stories, especially over the one about how the two of you having gone off and already starting a family."

"I take it Ginny and your mum still don't want to accept the idea that Ginny and I aren't together anymore," Harry asked, positive he knew the answer.

"No, and they still don't accept the fact that Hermione and I aren't even together," Ron remarked, "The Burrow has been in a nasty state over the past week." Ron shook his head before he said, "And they still don't want to give up."

"What do you mean," Hermione asked.

"Ginny and mum…they still plan to win you and Harry back," Ron answered. "I tried to tell them that it's never going to happen but they won't listen to me. They don't want to see sense, really. Come to think of it, it's quite embarrassing."

Harry saw Hermione nod her head as she then went on, "But, you're okay with this, Ron? About Harry and I?"

"Well, it's still a little uncomfortable to be honest with you, and it'll take some time getting used to and all, but I don't want to keep on going with how we were over the past week. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I kind of missed you two," Ron finished, his face glowing a bright red color that matched his hair.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione choked out as she got up from her seat, walked around the table and gave him a bone-shattering hug.

Harry watched them in mild jealousy yet he couldn't help but feel as if he was released from dragging around a ball and chain behind him, as Ron sputtered out, "Can't breaf!"

Hermione instantly let him go as she wiped at her eyes, before she took back her seat next to Harry.

Harry and Ron locked eyes with one another before they both shot grins at each other.

The rest of the meal continued in good spirits, as the trio talked about what other wild stories the Daily Prophet spun about Harry, Hermione, or Harry and Hermione.

Harry, however, wasn't at all perturbed by any of the imaginative tales that was circling around him, as he had always been surrounded by such absurdity ever since he started Hogwarts. Hermione, on the other hand, had not, as it seemed to Harry that she had taken some offense to her and Harry's continuing imaginary romance saga.

Even though the conversation flowed easily between the three, Harry and Hermione both refrained from telling Ron about the painting of the woman and the raven for reasons Harry didn't know. They also didn't tell him about the shack they had found in the forest trees behind Potter's Cottage for the main purpose to spare Ron of the affections Harry and Hermione had shown one another in it.

By the time the meal came to an end, the trio had found themselves talking about Hogwarts.

"Have you guys been helping out at Hogwarts," Ron asked.

"A bit, but not for the past couple of days," Harry answered.

"I'm thinking about going there to help," Ron remarked, "but I don't think I'm going to come back for the fall term."

"You decided already," Hermione questioned.

"It wasn't that hard of a decision to make," Ron responded with a lazy shrug of his shoulders, "school has never really been my thing."

"But you only have one year left," Hermione said as if she took personal offense of Ron deciding not to complete his studies, "you don't even want to finish your education?"

"Hermione, I don't know if you noticed this or not but I'm not exactly smart like you or Harry," Ron said.

"Oh, don't be silly, Ron," Hermione scolded.

"It's true," he interjected, cutting her off, "I just feel that I would be wasting my time if I went back there. I suppose it was never really a question of you going back though, was it, Hermione?"

"Well, I did have a feeling that I might not want to go back, but I think I will return anyway and take my N.E.W.T.s," Hermione said, looking first at Ron and then at Harry.

"And I suppose that you will go wherever Hermione goes, Harry," Ron clarified in a mild tease.

"Definitely," Harry responded quietly, looking directly at Hermione, holding her gaze.

As the two continued to stare at each other, Ron gave a quite loud, " _Ahem_ ," which took them both out of their stupor.

"Well, I probably should get going," Ron then said, standing to his feet, "I'm helping George with the joke shop."

"Are you working there now," Hermione asked, as she and Harry also stood to their feet.

"Not yet, just helping out with…well you know, with Fred not here and all, but it's just as well that I'm practically going to start working there sooner or later," Ron replied cheerfully.

As Hermione nodded her head in understanding, Harry turned to him and said, "Ron, thank you for writing to us. I can't say that Hermione and I have been good friends to you after what had happened that last time we were at The Burrow. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too, Ron," Hermione relayed.

"You guys have nothing to apologize for," Ron stated, "it's not like you did anything wrong. I guess we all thought that we would get on with our lives after the war ended, but we all have different experiences with everything that we went through. You guys really do deserve each other and I want to be happy for you two. It'll just take some time for me to get used to...you know, the fact that you guys are together and all."

Harry and Hermione smiled at him before he finally said, "Let me know when you guys plan to go back to help with the repairs at Hogwarts; I want to come along."

"We will," Hermione said.

After giving them a wave of his hand and a small smile, Ron disappeared with a small _POP_ leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the Grimmauld Place kitchen.

"Well that went a lot better than I thought it would," Hermione said next to Harry.

He looked down at her, giving her a smile as he responded, "At least Ron's trying; that's much more than we can say about Ginny and Mrs. Weasley."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and said, "It's not our problem if they don't fancy the two of us together. Ron was right when he said that we didn't do anything wrong. I'm finished worrying about what other people say about us."

"Were you thinking the same thing when Ron was telling us about everything the Daily Prophet has been saying about us," Harry asked, a smirk starting to gather across his face.

"Those stories were just absolutely ridiculous," Hermione said to him, "especially the one about us starting a family…I mean how daft!"

For an unknown reason, Harry was hurt by her words. His heart churned away from her as if it had been damaged. His grin was wiped off of his face in an instant as he then felt thoroughly downcast by what she had said. He felt as if the light inside of him had been captured by a thief, covering his eyes in darkness while gripping at his insides in a harsh manner.

Hermione noticed his sudden change as she asked, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," Harry replied, turning away from her to start clearing the table; he didn't seem to notice that Kreacher had suddenly appeared and was making cleaned plates and goblet vanish into thin air.

Harry felt Hermione's hand wrap against his wrist. He turned around to see her face was stretched in a concerned manner.

"Harry," she started in a voice that told him he wasn't able to hide anything from her.

He sighed as he said, "Follow me."

Harry took her hand in his and led her out of the kitchen, up the creaking stairs of the home, past the plaque that housed several house-elf heads, and onto the first floor landing. He opened the door to a bedroom and shut it after Hermione had entered.

"What did I say, Harry," Hermione asked him instantly in a somber tone.

He sat on the edge of the lone bed, patting the area next to him for Hermione to sit down. She did and looked over at him expectantly.

"Is it so hard," Harry started but then stopped himself, wondering if he was overreacting.

After he didn't continue, Hermione asked, "Is it so hard what, Harry?"

He took a deep breath before taking the plunge.

"Is it so hard to imagine having a family," Harry asked, without looking at her.

Hermione was still and silent for a moment before she replied, "Well, I never actually stopped to think about it. Where are you going with this, Harry? I don't understand."

"Down in the kitchen, you said that the story about the two of us starting a family was ridiculous. Did you mean it?"

Harry heard her take in a sharp breath before she said, "Harry, I meant that it was ridiculous because of how young we are. I didn't mean that someday having a family with you was ridiculous. I didn't think you'd take it that way. Actually, I didn't think you were even thinking about having a family."

"Maybe I'm over-thinking it. The thing is, is that the one thing I want the most is a family of my own," Harry told her. "I thought about having my own family earlier this morning, in fact."

"Harry, you have a family," Hermione told him, but Harry shook his head at her.

"Not one of my own, Hermione. Yes, I have friends and I could consider that my family, but it's different…it's just not the same."

"You're right…I-I'm sorry I said that, Harry. I wasn't thinking properly," Hermione replied.

Harry looked over at her to see that she was looking down at her lap in shame. Before he could say anything further to cheer her up, Hermione piped up and said, "Actually, it's strange now because neither of us have any real family left."

"Your mum and dad didn't have any brothers or sisters," Harry questioned.

"No, and my grandparents have all passed on," Hermione told him, "it's just me that's left."

She gave him a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I forgot all about that," Hermione finished sadly.

"Hey," Harry said softly, making Hermione turned to face him, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad. Let's just forget everything I said."

Hermione shook her head slightly from side to side as she stood to her feet and wrapped her arms over her chest as if an icy chill had taken hold of her.

"I'm getting over it, you know," she said, "my parents, I mean," she added, seeing the puzzled expression on Harry's face. "I didn't think I ever would but being with you helped me, Harry and I just wanted to let you know that that means a lot to me, more than I could ever really tell you."

Harry stood to his feet and walked the several steps to close the gap between him and Hermione.

He looked down at her and said, "I'm glad it helped you, Hermione. But I have to say that you staying at Potter's Cottage helped me as well. I didn't think I would ever be able to get over what happened during the war but I guess it's time to accept everything that happened and everyone that we lost so I can move on. But Hermione, I want to move on with you."

"What do you mean by that," she whispered.

Instead of answering with in words, he enclosed his lips over hers. The pair stood there, moving their lips in perfect synchronization with one another's. Hermione's arms were wrapped around Harry's shoulders while he held her lower back, their eyes closed, and their noses grazing one another's as they deepened the kiss.

They broke apart, gasping for air, as they stared heatedly at each other, Harry's bright, green eyes blazing into Hermione's warm, brown ones. Both of their chests were rising and falling in a rapid manner, as they were both spellbound by their kiss.

Although they had kissed before, this one seemed of an entirely different dimension to Harry. Hermione poured her feelings of loss and hurt into her kiss with Harry, and quite frankly, he didn't know if he was ever going to be the same again. Something unknowable passed between them and Harry was trying to piece together a formula of epic proportions to make sure their next kiss would be just as unforgettable as this one was.

"That was…"

"Wow," Harry intervened, finishing Hermione's uncompleted thought as just then, a small smile started to glaze over his face. His smile seemed to be infectious for Hermione also started to smile.

"Harry, why did you bring me up here," Hermione asked, "we could've had this conversation down in the kitchen."

"Privacy," was Harry's one-word response.

"Well, it was a good idea but I think it's time for us to go back to Godric's Hollow, don't you think?"

"Uh…yeah, sure," he said after a moment, not sounding too sure of himself.

"Do you not want to go back," Hermione asked, looking over at him.

In reality, Harry would rather he and Hermione spend the rest of the afternoon holed up in the bedroom they were currently in, with the ideas of kissing and love bites popping into his head, but instead, he shook these thoughts out of his field of vision.

"No, no, I think it's time we go back," Harry stated.

Hermione gave him a look of disbelief before she shrugged her shoulders lightly and suggested, "Let's tell Kreacher we're leaving first though."

As Harry thought that was a good idea, the pair traveled down the stairs and back into the kitchen where they bid the aged house-elf a 'good-bye' before Harry disapparated them out of London and back to Potter's Cottage.

After mulling about for the better part of several hours, Harry and Hermione decided that it was time for them to and visit the painting of the woman and the raven.

In the foyer of the home, Harry still was not entirely comfortable with the possibility of what may lurk behind the portrait.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Hermione," he asked her, giving her a weary look.

She huffed, "Harry, you can't deny that you're also curious about this magical community that Andromeda told us about. We're just going to check it out."

"I know, I know, but something just doesn't feel right," he said back to her. "I don't know what it is, though."

At his words, Hermione grabbed Harry's hand in hers and said, "We'll be together, Harry." Those few and simple words swept over Harry's core like a powerful force of nature. He looked down at Hermione and nodded his head in confirmation.

"Let's go, then," she said gently, leading him out the front door of the home.

As they walked down the quiet streets of Godric's Hollow, the sun had begun to set. The blazing ball of fire was descending over the faraway horizon, a horizon in which time and space became mysterious. A breeze crept over the tops of the trees like dull whistles, with green leaves being ripped apart from its perches up above, before floating down towards the ground. The sky had turned in a crimson red, while stray clouds persisted overhead.

Harry's heart was beating to a most unusual rhythm, as his head and his heart were at odds with one another. His head was filled with eagerness and excitement while his heart was nearly drowning in trepidation and anxiousness. He tried not to let any of his emotions flicker over his face but he didn't think he was going to win that battle after Hermione squeezed his hand, as if in encouragement.

Hand-in-hand, the couple walked silently towards the center of the village, as if traveling over torrential terrain to answer a siren call they had heard from miles away. It might as well be the point in which Harry and Hermione were traversing headlong into a supernova of freedom, as shackles and chains waited with bitter impatience to imprison them to a dangerous conspiracy related to the raven that had been, in Harry's eyes, prominent at times when life seemed to overturn, like ships being wrecked upon jagged rocks of the ocean.

Upon passing the war memorial, Harry briefly glanced back as the stone facade changed into that of him, and his mother and father. He smiled faintly at it before they passed by several people, wandering about the central area of Godric's Hollow.

"Harry, do you know where this place is exactly," Hermione whispered as she leaned into him.

"No but in my dream, we always walk down this alley between two, white-brick buildings," Harry replied to her softly, "I'll know it when I see it."

Two pairs of eyes looked down different alleys that was situated between buildings until Harry stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes fell upon the small pool of water that had formed in the middle of the alley, as his eyes spotted a dim light that was attached to one of the buildings. He looked to his left and right and saw that this narrow and murky passageway was squished between the structures 'Talbert's Treasures' and 'Corvus'.

"This is it," he said down to her, "this is where we go in my dreams."

Harry briefly looked around him and when he didn't see anyone looking at them, he pulled Hermione quickly between the two buildings. He maneuvered around the puddle of still water as he came to a stop under the feeble light as his eyes fell upon what he and Hermione came here for: the portrait of the woman and the raven. It was just as his mother had described it in her journal he had found before, and just like what he had dreamt about.

A beautiful woman that had short, brown hair that hung just above her shoulders, while wearing a diamond-encrusted headband with two, white feathers sticking out from it, stared back at Harry and Hermione, with her lifeless, cold blue eyes. A black raven sat on her left shoulder, one of its wings jet black, while the other was coated in dazzling diamonds. To any Muggle that might've passed by, this would look like a showy display of graffiti art, just like Harry's mother described, but to Harry, he could almost feel the magic radiating from the picture.

Just like his father had done decades previously and just like in his dreams, Harry took out his wand and, taking another heavy sigh, he tapped it three times against the portrait, leaning toward it and saying softly, "Potter, party of two."

Instantly, the woman blinked at him while giving Harry and Hermione a stiff nod of her head. The raven took flight and flew out of the portrait while the woman disappeared afterward. The picture suddenly expanded a head taller than Harry and Hermione, while its width enlarged as well. The smooth surface of the door suddenly appeared before the couple.

Harry looked back at Hermione, as he said, "Well...this is it, isn't it?"

"We'll be fine, Harry," she said back to him, offering him a warm smile.

Unsure if Hermione was right this time around, he turned back towards the door, reached down, grasped the doorknob and turned it. Harry and Hermione stepped inside and disappeared from the Muggle realm.

* * *

Author's Note: I know this is a cliffhanger but the next chapter will explain many different things. I also wanted to say that I genuinely like Ron as a character, I just think he's nowhere near the right person for Hermione (if it isn't obvious, Harry and Hermione is the perfect fit). Chapter 17 will be posted early Wednesday morning. Thanks for reviewing and reading.


	17. Shadows under the Moon

Chapter 17: Shadows under the Moon

A thrill snaked up Harry's spinal column as he and Hermione stepped over the threshold and disappeared into the doorway that had manifested itself out of the graffiti art of the woman and the raven.

Looking around the entrance, the pair noticed a stone wall that stood before them, with a squared entryway that housed a single stairwell which disappeared sinking into darkness, as faint voices could be heard from down below.

"Harry, I don't like this," Hermione whispered close to him, as her closeness sent shivers rushing through him.

He turned to face her as he peered over to her from behind his round glasses.

"Hermione, it's just like you said before: we'll be fine…we have each other," he told her, giving her a tight smile that did not reach his eyes.

She looked down the darkened stairwell with a nervous expression on her face.

"Something doesn't feel right," Hermione murmured in low tones, "like what you said before," throwing his words back at him.

Harry grabbed her hand in his as electricity seemed to cackle between them.

"We didn't come here just to turn around," Harry said, "we'll be fine…trust me."

Harry squeezed her hand in confirmation as he slowly led her down the wooden staircase. The faint voices they heard just moments ago became more pronounced with each step they trekked downwards.

Suddenly, the tunnel of stairs opened up under an archway in which Harry and Hermione noticed that a grand number of tables had been scattered about, with chairs surrounding each one, over a smooth, tiled floor. The room they stepped into was large, as two fireplaces, framed with overlong, golden feathers, stood opposite each other, while a number of ornate paintings were glued to the walls.

"Harry, I think this place is some sort of eatery," Hermione exclaimed, as she clung to his arm in a vice-like grip.

"Yeah, seems that way, doesn't it," Harry replied back to her. However, Harry seemed quite disappointed. Nearly two weeks have passed since Harry first found the journal entry written by his mother about his father taking her to whatever lay behind the painting of the woman and the raven. Not only that, but Harry has been having dreams over what exactly was behind the same painting himself. Yet, finally reaching his destination only to find an eatery, as Hermione had described it, was simply disheartening.

"What is it, Harry," Hermione asked, noticing the lace of defeat within his voice.

Harry knew better than to falsify his thoughts to her as he led her over to a lone, empty table, and gestured for her to take a seat. He sat down opposite her and explained, "I thought this would be something more than just a restaurant, or whatever this is. Andromeda told us that a magical community was behind the woman and the raven and I just thought she meant something like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley…I didn't think she meant something like this."

"Well, it is hard for witches and wizards to find places away from Muggles," Hermione started, "I mean, look at where the Ministry of Magic is, for instance. After all, Godric's Hollow isn't really known for having a strong presence of witches and wizards either."

Harry nodded his head in understanding before he looked around at the other patrons around them. He noticed that two aged wizards were playing some sort of card game, their long, wispy silver hair hanging down their backs. Another table was occupied by a middle-aged man and woman, as they were in deep conversation as plates of food was positioned before them. A young man who seemed to be slightly older than Harry and Hermione in age was scouring over a long piece of parchment in a far corner, while at a table nearest Harry and Hermione, two burly men were puffing out billows of smoke from cigars they held in their over-large hands, as their voices screamed of arrogance and pompousness.

Harry fixed his gaze back on Hermione, whom he noticed was watching him intently.

"What," he asked her, though not in an unkind manner.

"I was just thinking," she replied back, somewhat cryptically.

"What were you thinking about," he questioned, a smile starting to form on his face, as the dismay of not finding an entire magical community hidden behind the woman and the raven started to ebb away.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, not willing to give him an answer.

"What is it, Hermione," he inquired again.

Before she could respond, a house-elf suddenly scampered over next to their table, as both Harry and Hermione looked down at it, noticing that the house-elf could not even see above their table.

"Mister and missus, please excuse Tabby for his lateness! I was attending to the cooking area and did not realize we had new guests," the house-elf named Tabby squeaked, as if he just uttered one of the Unforgivable Curses.

Harry looked down at the small elf and noticed that his eyes were like Dobby's, as they were large and round like tennis balls, though something in Tabby's eyes was slightly off-putting. Harry didn't exactly know what it was, but it made him feel uneasy. He also noticed that Tabby had thin, bat-like ears, as he also was wearing a purple scarf that he seemed to wrap around himself three or four times.

"What can Tabby get mister and missus this evening," he squeaked again, as his eyes looked up hopefully at Harry and Hermione, darting back and forth between the pair.

"Uh, what do you have Tabby," Harry asked his kindheartedly, as he was surprised that a house-elf was to be their food server.

"How silly of Tabby," the house-elf suddenly squeaked, as he snapped his fingers and a menu instantly appeared in between Harry and Hermione, "please excuse Tabby of his foolishness!"

"It's alright, Tabby," Hermione coaxed, giving him a smile, as Harry started to pour over the menu items.

"Are you hungry, Hermione," Harry asked, looking over at her, as his stomach gave a loud growl, alerting its owner of its lack of food.

She gazed over at him before she nodded her head and commented, "Yes, we didn't eat any dinner yet, did we?"

"No, we haven't," Harry replied back. He then looked down at the patiently-waiting house-elf who was bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet with his hands clasped behind his back, as Harry said, "Uh, Tabby, I'll have the roast beef with jacket potatoes and a cup of pumpkin juice."

"Excellent choice, mister! And what about missus," he asked, turning to Hermione.

"I'll have the pork chop stew with a side of sprouts and a glass of pumpkin juice, if that's okay?"

"Anything is okay here missus! In fact, the food is the best in all of Twrill's Center!"

Harry and Hermione shot each other looks of confusion before they returned their attention back on the house-elf.

"Twrill's Center," Harry asked, "what's that?"

Tabby looked back and forth at Harry and Hermione as the smile he was wearing just seconds ago seemed to falter slightly.

"Twrill's Center," Tabby repeated.

"What is Twrill's Center," Hermione questioned.

"Mister and missus does not know what Twrill's Center is?" Harry noticed that Tabby's eyes seemed to grow slightly larger at his own question.

As the couple shook their heads wordlessly from side to side, Tabby said, "You are in Twrill's Center right now!"

Harry looked around absentmindedly as he asked, "This restaurant is called Twrill's Center?"

Tabby shook his small head back and forth so vigorously that his bat-like ears smacked him across the face. He seemed not to have noticed as he said, "This restaurant is called The Corvus Canteen, which his located in Twrill's Center! It is the wizarding community in West Country!"

Harry looked over at Hermione, as he noticed that her eyebrows shot upwards at Tabby's piece of news.

"Tabby," Hermione started after a moment when she recovered from shock, "how do we access Twrill's Center?"

"Just beyond that door there," Tabby squeaked out, pointing one of his skinny fingers over to a red door at the far end of the Corvus Canteen. "Tabby will be back with your food, mister and missus!"

With that, the house-elf walked away from their table, snapping his fingers in the process, making their menu disappear into nothingness.

"So Andromeda was right, there is a magical community here," Harry stated, staring over at Hermione, as excitement started to bubble inside of him.

"You seem relieved," Hermione commented over to him, as the corners of her mouth threatened to turn upwards.

"I guess you could say that," Harry replied, "I don't know, I just think it's different that there's a magical community that we've never been to before in England. It changes things."

"What does it change," Hermione asked, puzzled.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as a light, red flush crashed over his cheeks. "Well, I guess it's because I get to experience it with you."

At his words, Hermione's face broke into a wide smile while Harry continued to stare down at their empty table in slight mortification.

"Do you mean that," Hermione asked him softly, while a number of voices continued to float around them, like musical notes suspended in midair.

After hearing her question, Harry looked up at Hermione and gazed directly into her warm, brown eyes.

"Yes," he answered simply.

However, before any other words could be exchanged between the pair, their air of closeness was broken when plates of food suddenly appeared before them, along with two pairs of fork, knives, and spoons.

They both looked down at the food they had ordered before they started to eat away at their dinner.

As they ate, more and more witches and wizards started to file into the Covrus Canteen as they sat down at unoccupied tables, while Tabby ran around to attend to each one.

Noticing this, Harry asked, "Do you think that Tabby is the only worker here?"

Hermione followed Tabby's rapid movements with a frown on her face as she replied, "I don't know, but if he is, I hope he's getting paid above-decent wages."

At this, Harry smiled down at his half-eaten plate of roast beef, not because of how the food tasted (which Harry thought was excellent), but because he remembered how valiant Hermione felt for the welfare of magical creatures, including house-elves, with her S.P.E.W. campaign she initiated back in fourth-year.

"Harry, what are you laughing at," she asked.

"Nothing, I'm fine," he acquiesced over to her, shaking his slightly back and forth, "it's nothing, really."

She rolled her eyes before she set the plate of sprouts she had ordered between the two of them.

"Do you not like it," Harry questioned, after he swallowed a giant helping of jacket potatoes, gesturing over to the plate.

"I do, but you happened to avoid ordering any vegetables with your dinner," she replied matter-of-factly.

Harry groaned over at her as he asked, "Are you always going to make me eat some sort of vegetables at our dinners?"

"Harry, eating healthy is good for you," she stated with an air of trivial impatience, "I mean, it can't hurt to eat it, right?"

Harry inwardly thought that that was highly debatable as he didn't exactly relish in the thought of choking down a helping of vegetables at every meal, but he decided that it would be better if he didn't voice his thoughts to Hermione.

Aware that Hermione was watching him, Harry grudgingly speared a small sprout as if it was the sprout's fault that Harry had to eat it, before he plopped it in his mouth and started chewing it, much to Hermione's delight.

"See, it's not so bad, is it?"

Harry stringed together some incoherent gibberish before he turned back to his roast beef and jacket potatoes.

"Harry, I meant to ask you before, do you plan to do anything with your parents' old room in Potter's Cottage? You rarely ever go in there."

Harry set down his fork and knife as he regarded Hermione's question before he replied, "I don't think I fancy being in their old room, knowing that they're not here anymore. To me, it just doesn't feel right to use it for any other purpose. Why?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "I was just curious. I had a thought yesterday that being in your old room would've been much harder for you, considering with…well, you know, when-,"

"Voldemort tried to kill me," Harry finished for her.

She nodded at his words, becoming weary.

"Actually, let's just forget that I brought it up. I didn't mean to," she said, shaking her head at herself.

However, Harry thought that she made a valid point, one that he didn't even think about before. Yet, Harry had slept in his room numerous times over the past week and a half with no problems, besides the occasional nightmare that had consumed his subconscious. Hearing what Hermione had just said about sleeping in the room where Voldemort had tried to kill him that fateful Halloween night years ago, Harry suddenly felt out of sorts with it.

Nonetheless, something was still barring Harry from taking over his mum and dad's old bedroom. Like he told Hermione before, he considered it to be of a sacred space, unwilling to tarnish it under his touch for fear that it would surely rot away any last bit of sanity Harry had in connection to his parents. Leaving that bedroom be was like letting a ship move in time with the waves of the ocean that curled at its hull, rocking it to and fro across the vast sea, untouched and left alone in its original state of splendor and glory.

"I just don't like the thought that if I were to sleep in my parents' old room, it may not be theirs anymore," Harry said, "that probably doesn't make any sense but it's kind of like my mum and dad are still part of Potter's Cottage because I don't sleep in their old bedroom."

"Harry," Hermione started softly, "no matter what, Potter's Cottage will always belong to your mum and dad, and yourself. Nothing you do will ever change that."

Before Harry could stop himself, he said, "Potter's Cottage also belongs to you too, Hermione."

She audibly gasped at what he had said, in which he then felt awkward.

"I-I-I, what I m-mean that is, you, for," he stammered uncontrollably as if he was chasing himself around in small circles within a pitch black forest. He stopped speaking for a moment, collected his thoughts, and started again in a slow manner, "What I meant is that you've been living there for the past week and half with me, and…well, that's it," he finished lamely, mentally reminding to smack himself later.

Hermione looked over at him critically, gauging him as if she knew he wasn't telling her the truth, but she didn't press the matter any further.

The pair finished their dinner under a prickly muteness afterwards as Harry silently reprimanded himself for saying things before thinking. Truthfully, Harry meant what he had told Hermione initially as her staying with him in Potter's Cottage had just been a natural fit, like he and Hermione were the final two pieces of an unsolved puzzle.

Harry never put much thought into his life after the war, as he had originally guessed he would drift back to Ginny and they would start their lives together. Yet, thinking over that scenario made Harry unhappy of his future prospects, but at the time, he didn't know that Hermione was his solution. What Harry did understand at that time, was that he wanted to be sure that he and Hermione would always stay connected with each other, for the pair had trudged through the thickest parts of an overgrown terrain, arriving at the end of their destination broken, but alive. He had to make sure she was going to be alright...he had to make sure the haunted memories of war would never dominate her life...he had to make sure she was going to be happy.

After their plates were clean, Harry dug into his jeans pocket and extracted a pocket full of galleons.

"Think this is enough for our dinner," Harry asked Hermione, showing her the money he held in his hand.

"More than enough," she answered him.

He nodded as he said, "I want to make sure there's enough for Tabby, too."

Hermione gave Harry a shocked expression before she questioned him, "Have you taken to Tabby, Harry?"

He smirked over at her, answering, "Just let me know when you start up S.P.E.W. again."

She laughed out loud, sounding like beautiful musical melodies harmonizing together to Harry's ears. "Don't forget, you still are the-,"

"Secretary," Harry and Hermione said together, as they smiled.

"Ron was Treasurer, wasn't he," Harry asked.

"He was," Hermione answered.

"I don't think he was that excited about it, though," Harry told her in a teasing manner.

At this, Hermione huffed as she said, "Well, it seemed like Neville was an avid supporter. If I remember correctly, he put in his two sickle initiation fee fairly quickly."

Harry thought that Neville gave Hermione his two sickles just for her to stop badgering him about her club, rather than being exemplified as a rabid enthusiast of S.P.E.W. Instead of relaying that information to Hermione, Harry said, "Yeah, I'm sure Neville would replace Ron as Treasurer if you asked him."

"Now you're just teasing me," Hermione replied with a smile, "but I still believe in S.P.E.W. no matter what anyone thinks."

"Dobby seemed happy enough to be its representative, didn't he," Harry thought aloud.

"It's highly probable that Dobby agreed to be its representative only because of your involvement as Secretary," Hermione shot back playfully, "he always was your biggest fan."

"Yeah, he was," Harry said, nodding his head as he thought back about Dobby before the house-elf had met his ill-timed death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

After a brief period of noiselessness, Hermione cleared her throat and asked, "Well, are you ready to go Harry?"

Hearing her voice, Harry shook his head lightly, as he then nodded his head, placing his galleons on the table.

"Let's go," Harry said, standing from the table, and holding out his hand. Hermione smiled at him, which made his heart flutter, as she repeated his actions, standing away from the table, and placing her hand in his.

However, before they could walk away, Tabby suddenly appeared, as he looked up at them with his wide, tennis-ball shaped eyes and asked, "How was your dinner, mister and missus?"

"It was great, Tabby," Hermione said down to the elf in a soft manner.

"Tabby is happy to hear so! Please, come back any time, mister and missus, and Tabby will be delighted to serve you again," the house-elf piped.

"Thanks Tabby," Harry said, as he gave the elf a smile, before he led Hermione away from him, and towards the red door that would lead them out to Twrill's Center.

As the pair walked closer and closer to the red door, Harry's heart rate began to quicken with exhilaration, so much so, that neither one of them noticed a pair of eyes that followed their every movement…a pair of eyes that belonged to the man that could not be much older than Harry and Hermione, as he sat in the corner of The Corvus Canteen, his parchment having been discarded the instant Harry and Hermione stood to their feet.

Harry took hold of the doorknob and turned it, as he and Hermione stepped out of The Corvus Canteen. As the door swung shut behind them, the pair stood facing another flight of stairs that led upwards. The hiked up the stone steps, and when they reached the top, Harry looked around in amazement.

The first thing that Harry noticed was that The Corvus Canteen was not the only shop in Twrill's Center, for next to it, stood three other buildings, its lights shining brightly against the darkening night. Sitting directly across these four stores stood another four buildings, as a large pool of water in the shape of a gargantuan rectangle separated the shops from each other, with a stone bridge that hung over the quiet waters connecting one side to the other.

Harry then saw that the rectangular body of water diverted into two separate paths when it reached a handsome, gothic-style manor at the end of its lane, as the waterways split into two different trails that ran into the forests beyond, the trees shadowing the waters that ran deep within it.

The manor grabbed Harry's attention as it was situated upon a slab of rock, as two other bridges ran over the waters, connecting the mansion to the eight different shops situated along the body of water. The manor, itself, was two stories high, as large glass windows covered the concrete edifice the mansion was made from. Two towers stood at each end of the manor, as Harry noticed that it was cast in complete darkness.

"Harry, this is amazing," Hermione stated, looking over Twrill's Center in awe, "it feels like a smaller version of Hogsmeade, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it kind of does," Harry replied. "Would you like to take a look around?"

"Sure, why not," Hermione answered.

With the darkened sky overhead, the pair walked hand-in-hand past The Corvus Canteen, to the next store over. The two-story structure was called Malvolia's Caravansary, an inn of sorts from what Harry could make of it. They then ventured to the next one-story shop and saw an oval sign plastered against it, reading the words 'Cibus Forum.'

"Hermione, what do you think that is," Harry asked, nodding towards Cibus Forum.

She peered over through its glass windows before she replied, "I think it's some sort of food market. Look, next to it is a place called Lyn's Dulcis, which is obviously a sweet shop, kind of like Honeydukes back in Hogsmeade."

Harry nodded his head in understanding as he saw that just outside of Lyn's Dulcis, a small collection of tables stood with purple and silver umbrellas sticking up from its center, acting as an awning for each table.

"Do you fancy any dessert," Harry asked, looking over at a woman and her young son walking out of the door of Lyn's Dulcis with an ice cream cone in his hand.

"Sure," Hermione agreed, as the pair walked past the woman and her son, and entered through the doors of the sweetshop to a pair of ringing bells that jingled against its entrance.

After the couple entered, Harry spotted a large collection of chocolate, situated on small trays against one wall, while a wide assortment of candies stood against another, as the store's third wall was occupied with a number of ice cream canisters in all kinds of flavors. The fourth wall of the store was the check-out counter.

"Harry, look at these chocolates," Hermione said, waving Harry over to her, as he had let go of Hermione's hand before when he drifted towards the ice cream section.

He looked down at the trays and trays of chocolate and saw that they were all in different shapes and sizes. He saw one tray that housed pieces of chocolate in the shape of the Golden Snitch, while another had the chocolate in the shape of broomsticks.

"How can I help you, my dears," a voice suddenly said from behind them.

Harry and Hermione whipped around to see an older lady looking at them expectantly, the lines on her face seemed to have become more pronounced as she aged, as her shoulder-length black hair had flashes of grey sticking out of it.

"Oh, we're thinking about getting some ice cream," Hermione said, as she and Harry walked away from the assortment of chocolates and towards the canisters of ice cream.

"Very well, very well, might I make a suggestion of the banana chocolate? It's a real crowd pleaser, it is, or perhaps the honey toast? Whatever you pick, your mouths will surely be filled with the sweetest flavors you have ever tasted…I guarantee you on that account!"

"Actually, I'd like the try the banana chocolate," Harry said, licking his lips in desperation.

The woman nodded at him as she turned to Hermione and asked, "And how about you, sweetie?"

"Um, I think the mint tea leaves sounds good," she replied.

"Coming right up," the woman sang about, as she waved her wand merrily as two cones scuttled downwards from a shelf overhead, as two scoops of banana chocolate filled one cone, while the other cone was piled with the mint tea leaves flavor.

"Come up the counter, you two, so you can pay for these and then enjoy them," the woman said to them, as the two ice cream cones floated behind her.

After the followed her and the ice cream cones over to the counter, she said, "That'll be six galleons."

Harry wordlessly took the necessary money and handed it over to her. However, when he did so, her eyes traveled up to his face, before landing on his scar.

"Now hang on just a minute," she started, but before she could finish, Hermione grabbed the two ice cream cones into her hands.

"Thank you," she said, as she and Harry quickly made their way towards the exit, the sound of bells signifying their departure from Lyn's Dulcis.

Once outside, Hermione handed Harry's cone to him as he said, "Thanks for that."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "I didn't think you would want for her to go on about you saving the wizarding world and all that."

"What are you talking about? I was saying 'thank you' for handing me my ice cream cone," Harry said to her.

Hermione playfully rammed her shoulder against his shoulder teasingly, as he laughed out loud, before the two started to lick away at their ice cream.

"Harry, can we go to the other side? I want to see what stores they have over there," Hermione asked.

"Sure, let's go," Harry replied, as he and Hermione walked over to the stone bridge that was situated in front of Cibus Forum.

Making their way over the pass, Harry noticed that strands of bright, yellow light wound its way over the sides of the bridge, as he saw the yellow lights' reflection sparkling off of the still waters below.

After they crossed the bridge, Harry and Hermione walked past Zwoo's Tectum, a store filled with all kinds of animals, Cloak and Dagger's, a circular, one-story bookstore; Habiliments, a clothing shop that displayed fancy gowns and dress robes in its glass display, before finishing up with Ails and Aids of Chemists, a one-story, red-brick building selling potions and medicine-like items.

"They have some nice shops here," Hermione noted, before she directed her attention at the manor nearby. "I wonder what that is though. Do you think it's someone's home, Harry?"

"It might be," Harry remarked, finishing off his ice cream cone, "but I don't think it is. I mean, this is a nice place and all, but who would want their house to be so close to these stores? There's no privacy or anything like that."

"I guess you're right," Hermione said, tilting her head to one side, as if trying to look at the mansion with a different perspective.

"You 'guess' I'm right," Harry said, looking down at her, "well what do you think it is, then?"

"I don't know," she responded, "it doesn't look like a store and you're right when you say that it probably isn't a home, either."

Hermione sighed before she looked down at her unfinished ice cream cone.

"Do you want the rest," she asked, offering it to Harry.

"Are we to forget what you said before about me eating healthier," Harry asked, taking the cone from Hermione's hands.

"Honestly, Harry, I'm just trying to make you eat more vegetables. It's not like I'm forcing you through a lifetime of pain."

"It certainly seems like it," he mumbled, to which Hermione leveled him with a cold glare.

"I was joking," Harry replied, laughing, before he ate the rest of Hermione's ice cream cone.

"Well I must say, Harry, that your humor matches that of a one-eyed troll," Hermione responded, a ghost of smile skirting her lips.

"A 'one-eyed troll' huh," Harry relayed, as if testing the words to see what he could make of them, "well, I guess it's better than a 'Hermione Granger,' isn't it?"

"How dare you," Hermione exclaimed with wide eyes, "I can have a sense of humor when I want to!"

Harry started laughing at the scandalous expression on Hermione's face, as he bent over, shaking with mirth, while he placed his hands on his knees. Once his hilarity coursed through him, Harry stood upright, and slung his arm over Hermione's shoulders, as he pulled her close to his side, before he placed a kiss on the side of her head.

She hummed against him, as he had guessed she was content with his light kiss. She wrapped her arm across his back, and clutched his side, as they turned away from the dark mansion, and slowly made their way over to the stone bridge, its bright, yellow lights being one of the few sources of brightness within Twrill's Center at this present hour of nighttime.

"You wanna head back," Harry asked, cringing at his words for breaking the peace that had encompassed the two of them.

"Yeah, I think we should," Hermione said, without looking up at him.

Without a moment's hesitation, Harry disapparated them out of Twrill's Center, making a mental note to himself to make sure he and Hermione would come again.

Once they arrived back in the foyer of Potter's Cottage, the couple headed off for separate bathrooms (Harry made his way towards the upstairs loo while Hermione took to the one downstairs), as they washed up and got ready for bed.

After Harry went back to his room, he changed into a plain, white t-shirt and midnight blue bottoms that hugged his ankles, as he thought to himself that Twrill's Center didn't seem all that dangerous to him. After Hermione had asked to go beyond whatever lie behind the graffiti art of the woman and the raven, Harry felt apprehensive of doing so because a small part of his mind and heart told him that something more sinister was at work, especially with some of the instances Harry encountered since the final war had reached its cessation.

Yet, tonight's escapade didn't scream that something darker was taking place in Twrill's Center, and for that, Harry was relieved. He wasn't entirely sure how he and Hermione would deal with another deadly force so soon after Voldemort's fall.

Harry walked over to his bedroom's window and looked out at the quiet and empty night streets of Godric's Hollow. He sighed in satisfaction, never taking these quiet nights of peace for granted ever again, not after he, Hermione, and Ron had been on the run searching for horcruxes, with peace not only being of a foreign state of mind, but also, incoherent in such a dark time in his life.

"Good night, Harry," came Hermione's soft voice from behind him.

He turned around, slightly startled, as she gave him a small smile.

"G'night," he replied, nodding his head over at her, and giving her a smile in return.

As she disappeared from view, Harry sat atop his bed and thought back to what Hermione had said earlier, about him sleeping in the same room where Voldemort had tried to kill him years prior. He now felt rather uncomfortable, and wagered for a moment about going down into the living room to sleep there.

However, after a fool's stolen moment, Harry shook his head, rejecting the living room escape, for he reminded himself that Voldemort was no more, and that even though some memories prevailed in the darkest of hours, Harry would overcome them.

Harry grabbed his wand and waved it, quenching his room of light, and plunging Potter's Cottage into total darkness.

As the still and quietness overcame him, Harry could hear the faint ruckus the animals outside the home were making, as if they were part of a midnight orchestra, trying to impress the sleeping hosts of Godric's Hollow.

Harry sighed and turned over on his side and shut his eyes. However, for some reason, he shifted again, trying to get comfortable. He then sat up, ruffled his two pillows he had stacked on top of one another, and laid back down, again shutting his eyes. After a moment, Harry turned over onto his other side, and tried to will for sleep to take him.

He closed his eyes to blackness, as his usual feeling of melting into his mattress before falling into a deep slumber did not come to him. Instead, he felt as if he was lying upon stiff, wooden pallets rather than a mattress made for sleeping.

Harry could almost feel the seconds turn into minutes, which turned into hours, pass by him like a wind rushing through the trees of a forest, incapable of staying in place, for the expanse was too great to not run aplenty.

Now growing frustrated, Harry turned again and lay on his stomach. He didn't understand why he couldn't fall asleep. Why was it so difficult for him to accomplish a seemingly effortless task this night?

As the shadows continued to creep within his room, Harry heard an incoherent mumble issuing from Hermione's room, as he had guessed that she had left her bedroom door open, just like he had. At first, he thought that she might be having another nightmare, but as he waited with bated breath, this didn't seem to be the case. After hearing her mumble several more times, his ears fell upon the task of her bed sheets beings rustled around, as he listened to her exit her bedroom and walk down the stairs.

Puzzled, Harry extracted himself off of his wooden pallet-like mattress and poked his head out of his bedroom to see that Potter's Cottage was still under complete darkness.

'Where did Hermione go,' Harry inwardly thought to himself.

His curiosity getting the better of him, he stealthily moved out of his room and tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make any sound.

Creeping into the living room, Harry's eyes fell upon Hermione tucking herself into one of the couches. His head told him to go back upstairs to bed, while his heart yearned for him to go to her. As he seemed to dance around, trying to weigh the pros and cons of each decision, his heart won the battle, as Harry made his way over to Hermione.

He saw that her eyes were closed yet he could tell that she wasn't asleep. Sinking down onto one knee, Harry softly called out, "Hermione?"

At the sound of his voice, her eyes popped open, like a child on Christmas morning, as her eyes screwed up in the darkness of the living room.

"Harry," she said back, "what are you doing up?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted. "I heard you mumbling a bit before you came down here."

At this, Hermione sat up as she said, "I couldn't go back to sleep."

"Yeah, well I can't even fall asleep," Harry replied, sighing loudly. "Do you know what time it is?"

"It's pretty late," Hermione responded, "sometime after two in the morning is what the clock in my bedroom said."

Harry continued to sit on the floor while he leaned back against the front of the couch, as Hermione soon followed suit. The two teenagers had their legs spread out in front of them as they savored the quietness sleepless early mornings brought to passengers that had not been able to escape reality and flounder within the sphere of dreams.

"Harry, can I tell you about what I dreamt," Hermione suddenly asked, her voice smashing through the walls of silence that been erected between them.

"You can tell me whatever you want," he told her.

She nodded her head at him before she opened her mouth and said, "Back when I went to visit my mum and dad, either during the winter or summer holiday, I always told them about you."

Harry looked down at her but she seemed inept to meet his eyes.

"Why," he asked, though not in an unkind manner, but more out of inquisitiveness.

"Well, you were the first real friend I had," she replied, shrugging her shoulders. "My parents always felt bad for me that I would always shelter myself within books, instead of trying to make friends my own age. They tried to introduce me to some other kids at our local park, but it never worked. The other kids would always think that I was weird or bossy, and they shunned me, which made me think little of who I was. I know my parents loved me, but they wanted so badly for me to make at least one friend my own age.

"After a while, it became obvious that I wasn't going to make friends at the local park or playground, and I think my mum and dad felt let down at the fact that I was unable to make any friends."

At this, Harry felt the need to interrupt her.

"Hermione, how can you say something like that," he asked her, surprised.

"What did I say?"

"That you felt like you let your mum and dad down just because you couldn't make any friends. Why would you even think of something like that?"

"I could see it on their faces, Harry…I heard them talking about it one night when they thought I was asleep. It was as if-,"

"Don't say that they were ashamed of you," Harry suddenly said forcefully, cutting her off, "don't even think of saying that."

At his words, Hermione fell silent, as she sensed that Harry was growing angry with her.

"Why are you telling me this," Harry asked.

"Well, this is what I dreamed about, and afterwards, I couldn't go back to sleep," she answered him simply.

"I don't understand why you keep putting yourself down, Hermione…you've never really done this before," Harry told her. "Why would start something like this now?"

"It's because of you," she whispered.

At this, time seemed to stop, as Harry's brain tried to register what Hermione had just told him.

"Me?"

"Well, not exactly you, but you're a part of it," she partially explained.

"Hermione, what's going on?"

"Harry, I've never been in a relationship before, and I just don't know what to expect from it. I also don't know what you expect from it. This is all new to me and I can't help but think that you might want things that I'm either unable or unwilling to give you right now."

As he let Hermione's words sink in, he actually started laughing, silently at first, as his shoulders started to shake, before a wide grin broke across his face.

"Why are you laughing," Hermione asked, her voice laced with hurt.

Harry instantly stopped, noticing that Hermione had a wounded expression on her face. She shook her head at him and stood to her feet. Before she could go, however, Harry grabbed onto her wrist.

"Let me go, Harry," she said without looking at him, "I can't believe you would laugh at me for that."

"Hermione, please, listen," Harry started, as he too stood to his feet, "I wasn't laughing at you…I was laughing that you would think that I'm experienced with things like dating or relationships…I'm not."

She turned to him and said, "But what about Cho and Ginny?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "Cho and I never really dated, while Ginny and I saw each other for a couple of months. Nothing lasted long with either of them. If it makes you feel any better, I don't even know if I could ever live up to your expectations."

Hermione gave him an incredulous look, before she said, "What are you saying, Harry?"

At her question, Harry turned away from her, letting her wrist out of his grasp, and sat back down, leaning against the front of the couch, as Hermione did the same.

"No one deserves you, Hermione," Harry started, "you're too good for everyone else, especially me." Harry looked over at her and said, "I don't deserve you."

"Harry, don't be daft," Hermione replied, "as that is the most ridiculous thing I think you have ever said."

"Well it's the truth," he replied.

"Why would you think that you don't deserve me? What sense is there in that?"

"You're just too good for me," he told her quietly, "you deserve someone who doesn't have all of this added weight that I have that I can't seem to get rid of. You deserve to be happy."

"Harry, I'm the happiest when I'm with you," Hermione told him clearly. "I know I never told you that, but it's the truth. I feel so different when I'm with you, Harry, and ever since the final battle, you make me feel good about myself. You're my first real friend, Harry, and I can't even begin to imagine what my life would be like without you. You mean a lot to me, more than I could ever tell you and I just want to be with you. I want us to be happy together…that's all I want, is for us to be happy."

Harry looked over at her intently, as if he was determining if she was telling the truth. But knowing Hermione for as long as he had, there was no doubt in his mind that she was speaking from the heart.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Harry," she added.

"Maybe, but sometimes I feel that you're the only one who sees me for who I am. You don't see me as 'The Boy Who Lived' or 'The Chosen One' or whatever other rubbish other people call me, you just see me as Harry Potter, and I can't tell you how much that means to me. I don't have to put up any false fronts when I'm with you, I can just be me. But I also want to keep you safe Hermione, I want us to be safe…I just want us to continue to live together kind of like what we're doing right now."

Harry looked over at Hermione who in turn was staring questioningly back at him.

He took a deep breath, wondering if this was the right choice to make, as he said, "I know we're both young, Hermione, but it kind of feels like we're older. I…well, I don't know what kind of plans you have, but I was hoping you might want to stay here…with me…in Potter's Cottage. We could make this permanent, if you want."

As soon as the words left Harry, he felt as if his heart was in free-fall, plummeting down into the pits of his stomach, never to return to its normal beat again. He tried to read Hermione's face at his offer, but found that was unable to.

The silence continued on, stealing time away from the couple, before Harry cleared his throat and said without looking at her, "Well, I mean, I guess I can understand if you don't want to, but it was just a suggestion and all. I won't feel bad if you say 'no' so I hope you don't this the wrong way or anything like that." Harry was rambling on, but he found no other alternative to take as Hermione still had not answered him.

He chanced a look over at her as she seemed to be regarding every word he spoke but she remained tight-lipped.

Harry was starting to grown uncomfortable, thinking that Hermione really didn't want to live with him, thinking that maybe she had planned to move on, leaving Harry behind, never to look back.

Finally, after what seemed like taking the time to observe how long it took the grass to grow, Hermione said, "What does this mean for us, if I decide to move in with you?"

At her question, Harry's mood considerably brightened, as there was still hope for Hermione to say 'yes.'

"It can mean whatever you want it to," Harry replied.

"Well, what would it mean to you, Harry?"

Harry stared directly at her as he answered, "It would mean that I accept you for how you are, no matter what faults you may think you have, like being a know-it-all or bossy or someone who makes me eat my vegetables, because I care for you so much. I want for us what you want for us, which is for us to be happy, together. I want to be with you, Hermione. I feel things for you, stuff that I've never felt before for anyone else. I don't care what anyone says about us, or what lies they print in that rubbish Daily Prophet…none of that matters when I'm with you, because you're the one thing in my life that I can't live without, not since you left with me after the end of the war. Everything changed between us from that point on, Hermione, and even after everything that has happened to the two of us since then, this past week and half has been so different from everything else I've experienced in the past. I don't know if you feel the same way or not, but that's what you moving in with me means."

Harry noticed that Hermione had tears in her eyes at what he said, as he hoped against all hope that her tears were of joy and not of anguish.

"Hermione," he asked cautiously, "are you okay?"

She hastily wiped at her eyes as she replied in a quavering voice, "I want to be with you, too, Harry. I just don't want to feel like I'm invading on your personal space or-,"

However, before she could continue, Harry stopped her as he cut in, "Hermione, if you agree to move in with me, my space is yours. Everything in this house will be yours. It's not a marriage of any kind, because I'm just not ready for that, but I just…I just want to be with you."

Before Hermione could say anything further, Harry leaned in towards her and kissed her on the lips. After she gasped in surprise, Hermione began to move her lips in time with Harry's, as they both had their eyes closed, feeling the raw emotion they harbored for each other.

Without breaking their kiss, Harry and Hermione stood to their feet, as Harry never wanted to let Hermione go. Hermione had a fistful of Harry's untamable hair, while his hands were squeezing her waist, wanting nothing more than be a part of her and for her to be a part of him.

As an idea flowed in Harry's head, he slowly leaned away from Hermione, letting his lips linger over hers for a moment longer, before he suddenly scooped her up into his arms, with one arm supporting her back while the other was tucked under the crook of her knees, as then carried her out of the living room, up the stairs, and into his bedroom. Once inside, he kicked his door shut before he set her on her own two feet, and recaptured her lips with his.

Harry walked her backwards carefully, holding on to her hips, before the back of her legs came into contact with his bed. Harry once again stopped the kiss, as he gently pulled away from her and tugged off his shirt and flung it onto the floor of his bedroom.

He then lay down atop his bed, pulling Hermione directly on top of him, as they continued to explore each others mouths. Harry's male teenage drive kicked into gear as he rolled on top of Hermione, as he let her feel him while she lay underneath him. She let out a moan which made Harry's toes curl, while he started to trail kisses down her neck.

When he let his tongue investigate the nape of her neck, Hermione reached around and clung onto Harry's bare back in both surprise and pleasure. Harry then started to kiss her shoulders, before Hermione surprised him by pushing him off of her so that Harry fell onto his back, with his arms stretched out across his mattress and over his bed sheets.

With lightning speed, Hermione sat atop of him, straddling his midsection, before she leaned down slowly, and returned his favor by kissing his neck.

Harry was completely consumed by her kisses, as he let out a low, feral growl, like that of a black panther, as he thought he was going to lose his mind and sanity if she continued kissing him like she was.

"Hermione," Harry said in a husky tone.

At the sound of her name, she looked up at him, which was what Harry had wanted for her to do. Reeling in his seeker-like skills, he instantly wrapped her in his arms and flipped her back over, so that he was over her.

Harry was panting as his hands stood on both sides of her shoulders while his knees were placed on either side of her hips, successfully ensnaring her underneath him. He licked his lips as he gazed down at her face.

"We can't take this too far," Harry said in a tone that crushed him. "I want you, Hermione, but we can't let this get out of hand."

After a moment, Hermione nodded her head, as she leaned up on her elbows, inches away from Harry's face.

"You're right," she said, "um, maybe I'll just head back to bed."

However, Harry didn't let her move out from under him as he proposed, "I was kind of hoping you would stay with me tonight."

"Harry, you just said we can't lose control," Hermione replied softly.

"I won't, but I don't want to be apart from you…not tonight," he nearly pleaded, begging her with his bright, green eyes not to go.

She smiled from under him, finally nodding her head in agreement. He then returned her smile, as he scooted off of her. Harry lay on his side, facing Hermione, before he pulled his bed sheets up to their chests, both of their faces flushed after their shadowy rendezvous.

It was fair to say that Harry and Hermione didn't get much sleep that early morning, as the springs from his mattress echoed throughout the small home of Potter's Cottage while hums of appreciation could also be heard, only falling silent when dawn broke.

As the rays of the sun peeked through the curtains of Harry's bedroom, as if trying it was trying to make sure it wasn't interrupting an intimate moment, Harry's eyes peeped open. He smiled as his eyes fell upon the back of Hermione's head, as sometime after they had finished their affectionate encounter, Hermione turned over so that her back was against Harry's chest, while his arm rested over her hip, as their legs were entangled with each other, like thick weeds among blades of grass. His bed sheets had been discarded onto the floor, while Harry wanted nothing more than to stay in his position forever.

He closed his eyes again, as he was extremely tired from stay up all night and into the early hours of dawn with Hermione. He sighed with happiness, as he snuggled in closer to her. However, because of their drowsiness, neither one of them noticed the owl that was flying towards Potter's Cottage, it being the bearer of bad news.

* * *

Author's Note: A couple things I would like to point out. First, to those of you with a keen eye, I gave an appreciative nod in this chapter to MissAnnThropic's Fanfiction epic "Vox Corporis," which to me, is perhaps one of, if not the greatest piece of work of all time on this site. Second, a "guest" reviewer left a comment, asking about "getting a previously in this fanfic or something on each chapter." I'm afraid I don't understand what that means; if you could "PM" me with an explanation that would be great. Finally, Chapter 18 will be posted Saturday afternoon, as the mystery of the woman and the raven will finally be unearthed. Thanks for reading.


	18. A Wind over the Creek

Chapter 18: A Wind over the Creek

Dull, grey clouds hung over the midmorning skies. It had rained before, as the green grass beneath the feet of Harry and Hermione were wet with tiny droplets of water, yet the precipitation had subsided…for now.

Harry hung his head, his thoughts clouded with this unknowable truth that had befallen him that very morning…a morning in which he thought had been so undeniably perfect until a letter from Mr. Weasley lit his morning aflame, as ash, dust, and soot fell down upon Harry and Hermione in emotions of shock, surprise, and for a time, brief sorrow.

Harry had his hands deep inside the pockets of his black slacks, as if they had been glued there, as he looked over at what was in front of him. Hermione was with him, as she had snaked her arm around one of his. He didn't ask her to come, but she had insisted, as if she knew he needed someone there with him at this time and she was right. He hated the thought of being here alone, as he savored her presence next to him, like an original lifeline of his.

A wind crept over them, stealing away any happy emotions from the couple, only for them to be enraptured in feelings of pure anguish.

Harry's green eyes fell upon three tombstones: one for his uncle, the next for his aunt, and the third for his cousin, all dead, depleted of any breath, buried in the ground for their bodies to decay over time, forgotten memories drowned in despair.

Harry gulped loudly as he thought about the ramifications of what the deaths of his last family members meant to him.

Since as far back as he could remember, Harry hated living with the Dursleys, as they had thought him nothing but a mere stain on their immaculate household; to them, he was just a walking and breathing freak that had blemished their lives of normalcy, a living reminder of who Harry was the product of.

Escaping the Dursleys house in Little Whinging to go to Hogwarts School had been had been an incredible joy for Harry, something beyond his wildest dreams and imagination, only for his pleasure to plunge when he returned to their home during the summer holidays.

His Uncle Vernon really couldn't stand the sight of Harry, and quite frankly, Harry didn't really mind as he felt reasonably the same about him. His cousin eyed Harry as a punching bag through much of their time together, as Dudley became so round as he grew older that Harry was sure his cousin would be able to eventually resemble a human marshmallow. However, before Harry left Private Drive for the final time, Dudley had changed, so much so that he provided short concern over where Harry would be going before they parted for the final time shaking hands, putting years of hatred to rest.

Then there had been his Aunt Petunia, his mother's sister, who seemed to despise him just as much as her husband did. Yet, his aunt also visited him and Hermione just a week ago, and told her side of the story, a side that showed her vulnerability and sadness over how she never rectified the qualms she held against her sister. For the quickest of moments, Harry had a feeling of sorts that he might be able to have a relationship with his aunt, something in which years of loathing had robbed him of. Little did Harry know that that the visit from his aunt would be the last time he would ever see her alive.

As bitter as his relationship was with the family that were now lying in caskets being lowered into the earth at the moment, did they really deserve to die? Not only that, but Mr. Weasley's letter had said their eyes had been removed, much like that of the woman Harry had battled back in Brisbane with Hermione…akin to that of Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones.

A pang of guilt registered over Harry at that moment, racing across the radar of his heart, making it contort inside of him.

"They didn't deserve this, Hermione," Harry whispered, being mindful of the two men with shovels standing nearby.

She was silent for a moment before she responded, "Maybe not, but Harry, they were cruel to you. They just about tortured you, not even regarding you as a child, much less a human being, since you were placed on their doorstep. You always talked about how horrid they were to you."

"They were awful people in the beginning, but even so, they didn't deserve this. I never wished them to die," Harry replied darkly.

He saw her nod solemnly out of the corner of his eye before she said in such a delicate voice, "I'm sorry, Harry, for their deaths…I know you didn't want this."

Harry paced his breathing, focusing on the misty air his nostrils inhaled, as a mild numbness overcame him.

"This is all connected, isn't it," Hermione suggested, more to herself than to Harry; however, he heard what she had said.

Turning to look at her, his eyebrows were pulled together in confusion as he tried to contemplate what her words meant.

"With their…well, you know, their eyes being removed," Hermione explained, as she whispered the word 'eyes' as if it were a curse on her tongue. "It's what Mr. Weasley suggested in his letter to you."

"Probably but I don't want to think about that right now," he told her.

"You're right, Harry. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Harry sighed inwardly as another wind gusted over the pair, as the branches of the trees overhead creaked ominously, while they both watched as the three brown caskets disappeared into the holes in the ground, never to surface again.

Harry felt Hermione shiver in the wind as he removed his hand from his pants pocket and draped it over her shoulders, pulling her close to him, shielding her.

"Yeh ready, Taylor," one man asked the other, walking forward with a shovel slung over his right shoulder.

"As I'll e'er be," the man named Taylor responded gruffly, as he too walked forward, brandishing the shovel in both of his hands almost as if he were about to use it as a weapon.

"Let's ge' on wit it then."

Together, the two men started piling dirt over the caskets in silence, as Harry could detect when the dirt smashed against the solid wood below.

Truthfully, it twisted Harry's heart to see the Dursleys being buried, for he meant what he had said before, in that they didn't deserve to die so unceremoniously…so unexpectedly. They had to lives to live, purposes to fulfill, missions set to accomplish, yet death had taken them and now they were gone. Harry didn't know precisely what happened when a person closed his or her eyes for the last time, but he didn't wish them any ill-will for whatever might lie beyond.

It was almost as if Harry was stuck in a dream, a distorted landscape of misery, as yet more people he knew had been killed. What did he do to deserve so much death that seemed to always encompass him…and would this ever stop?

At these questions, Harry's eyes turned to Hermione, as his greatest vow right now was to keep her safe.

He couldn't admit it to her yet, even though Harry had feelings for Hermione that traced deep lines of longing in his heart, as his mind wandered over a simple word when she came into view: love.

Did Harry love Hermione? Did his emotions go down that far for her? He didn't really know and he wasn't exactly comfortable about talking about 'love' with her…yet. The word seemed like such a foreign idea to him, even though Dumbledore had introduced it to him many years ago.

He had an inkling that Hermione might love him, which truly rattled him. The fact that someone, other than his mum and dad, could love him just shook him down to his core, it made every fiber of is being quake. But if he was to be honest with himself, Hermione was different; she was special and Harry definitely felt something for her, something he had never felt for anyone else before.

As these thoughts swirled around in his head, he unconsciously pulled Hermione tighter and tighter against him.

"Harry, I need to breathe," she pushed out, altering to Harry to just how hard he had been holding her against him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, loosened his grip on her, but still kept his arm around her shoulders, as a light red blush overcame his cheeks.

"Do you want to stay or do you think we should head back," Hermione asked gently, looking up at him.

Watching the dirt pour into the Dursleys graves, Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable watching the procession.

"Let's head back. Mr. Weasley said he still wanted to talk to us about something important," Harry said, "and I don't want to be here anymore."

Before they could turn around and depart, the man named Taylor took a break from shoveling, as he leaned against his tool, wiping the sweat from his brow, and said, "Ya know, you kids are de only ones who showed up fer these folks. Yeh two are family, I reckon?"

Harry looked over at the two men and replied curtly, "Something like that."

Without another word, Harry and Hermione turned around together, as they walked over the still-wet grass underfoot, across the lawn of Surrey Centre Cemetery, and down a quiet lane, void of any people.

Harry led Hermione behind a large tree as he pulled out a gold pocket watch, the same one Kingsley gave him when he and Hermione had left for Brisbane to use as a portkey.

He then took out his wand and tapped it three times, as the pair watched it as it started to throttle about in Harry's outstretched hand before glowing a bright blue.

Hermione rested one her fingers on it right before it took Harry and Hermione away, justly closing the chapter on the Dursleys from Harry's life forever.

Harry and Hermione arrived back in Mr. Weasley's head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement office in the Ministry of Magic, as he gestured for them to take two seats across his desk from him.

"Thanks for giving me this," Harry said to him, placing the gold pocket watch on his desk.

As the pair sat down, Mr. Weasley looked over at Harry with his hands clasped together atop his desk as he said, "Once again Harry, I'm very sorry for your loss."

Harry looked at the Weasley patriarch as he noted that his fiery, red hair was slightly disheveled off to one side, as if he decided running a comb through it would not matter, while he had small, purple bags under his eyes, making his pale skin sag downwards, looking as if he hadn't slept in days.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and replied in a small voice, "We never really were that close to begin with but thanks."

"Actually, I do have some things to say that might interest the two of you," Mr. Weasley started after a quiet moment while he regarded Harry's remarks with a frown on his face, "of which has to do with your aunt, Harry. If you prefer not to talk about it, I understand."

Harry looked quickly at Hermione before he redirected his attention to Mr. Weasley and said, "No, no, um, it's fine, actually."

Mr. Weasley nodded his head and began, "Well, if you remember, about a week ago, you asked me why your aunt was able to see Potter's Cottage when it is supposed to be blind to the Muggle eye. Do you remember?"

Both Harry and Hermione nodded wordlessly over at him, indicating that they did.

"After doing a fair bit of research, I have an answer for you. You see, your aunt, Harry, I believe her name was Petunia, had the potential to become a witch."

Harry sat there stunned, as he felt his eyes grow wide. Was that even possible?

"Yes, she definitely could have been a witch, just like your mother, but in the end, she produced no magical talent indicating that she was one."

At this, Hermione interrupted and asked, "Mr. Weasley, don't all Muggles have the ability to become a witch or wizard? Isn't that how the Muggle-Borns came to be?"

"Oh no, Hermione, no, not at all. For a person to become a witch or wizard, that person must possess a magical core; if a person does not carry that trait, then there is no chance for that person to ever inherit any magical abilities," Mr. Weasley answered her.

Harry tried to wrap his brain about what he was hearing, as he said, "So, then, Aunt Petunia had this magical core?"

"She did indeed, Harry. However, the magical core of a Muggle-Born is not activated at birth, like it is for most witches and wizards. It is a rather complicated process and only comes forth when its host is able to feel his or her magical core from within, which most of the time, comes at an early age, as I'm positive Hermione can attest to, right?"

Hermione's face was washed over in a light pinkish twinge, before she nodded her head and said shyly, "It came when I was four."

Mr. Weasley smiled proudly over at her, as if he was her own father, yet he didn't seem to notice what Harry did, which was something Harry didn't understand. As he looked over at her, he didn't know why Hermione seemed to be withdrawn from as she told them when she first experienced magic. He would've thought that Hermione would be able to turn her first magical practice into a full-fledged saga if she really wanted to.

"Therefore, Aunt Petunia did have a magical core within her, but it never functioned for her to acquire any magical aptitude," Mr. Weasley continued. "However, the reason your aunt was able to see Potter's Cottage was through her blood, the blood she shared with your mother, Harry. This same bout of blood, integrated with her magical core, even though it was never set in motion, enabled her to see the home, and hence, she followed through to visit you. This bond of blood is of an old magic, long forgotten as the ages have passed, yet it is still as strong as ever, mind you."

Harry, who was sitting on the edge of his seat, riled in heated anticipation, sat back with a resounding _THUMP_ as these realities slammed into him, like a train speeding down a track. As his brain tried to process what Mr. Weasley had told him, a soft hand found its way in his. He looked down and saw that Hermione was doing her best to comfort him, as he smiled down at their interlocked fingers, before looking over at her in thanks.

"I know it's a lot to take in, Harry, but that is the truth of the matter," Mr. Weasley added after seeing Harry's perplexed reaction.

Harry thought about how different his life would have been, how different the lives of his mum and dad would have been, if the magical core of his aunt had come to be. Would he be sitting in this very room, across from Mr. Weasley and next to Hermione, if this magical core Mr. Weasley spoke of, had been triggered within Aunt Petunia?

Harry looked up at the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and said quietly, "Thanks…for telling us."

"No problem, none at all," he replied, smiling kindly.

"Mr. Weasley," Hermione suddenly said, making both heads turn to her, "um, now that problem is solved with Harry's aunt, I was wondering if you could explain something I came across in a book."

"I'll certainly do my best," he answered, nodding his head for her to continue.

"You see, Harry and I went to Hogwarts the day we visited you to help with the repairs of the castle. We were having lunch with everyone there when Professor Trelawney, the Divination professor, started rambling on about a superstition of a woman and a raven. At first, I thought it was complete rubbish but I suddenly remembered that I had read about something like that before. I bought a book in Diagon Alley called _The Magical Brethren and its Secret Tomes_ and it mentioned the superstition about the woman and the raven, but it never explained what it was. I was hoping you could tell us."

Harry turned his head to look at Mr. Weasley whose mouth was set in a grim line.

"Well, I don't see the trouble in telling you two. Mind you, this is just a superstition and many witches and wizards take these fallacies with a grain of salt," Mr. Weasley told them. "Let's see, where to begin," he asked himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Ah yes! Sometime in the first century, a woman was scouring sights for her to erect a magical community, the very first of its kind, somewhere among the rolling hills of West Country. She came upon a middle-aged man who she saw had turned a small creek into a rivulet of red wine with a wand he had in his hand as he started to drink from it.

"She was happy that she had met another magical being along her trek, and asked him to aid her in building this magical community she so longed for. Together, the two fashioned several small homes tucked within a woodland the man told her about. Over time, the woman fell in love with the man and asked him for children. He obliged, not because he was in love with the woman, but because he felt it his duty to populate their quaint collection of dwellings with witches and wizards.

"She is said to have given birth to nine children. She loved them all very much as the man did as well, yet it was her youngest son that she loved the most. However, this is when everything changed. One day, her youngest son, now aged five at the time, went on an expedition with his father deep into the woods. When his father's back was turned, a mother wildcat in an attempt to protect her nearby cubs, slashed the young boy's face, rendering him immediately blind in his left eye, along with tearing a wide gash in his cheek that exposed his jaw."

At this, Harry cringed in disgust while Hermione gasped, her eyes growing wide, while both of her hands covered her mouth.

Mr. Weasley nodded his head, taking in their reactions. "Yes, it is quite the gruesome scene to contend with. The father turned around, hearing his son's cry of pain and immediately murdered the cat. He bundled up his bloodied son and returned to the encampment where he tried to heal him, but his injuries were just too severe for the young boy to overcome. The father was distraught, but his mother was consumed with despair and desolation, so much so that she killed all of her eight children while they slept that night, before turning her wand on the man she had felt betrayed her by letting her son be the victim of an animal that could have easily been killed.

"Cursing him for not having the foresight to save her favorite child, the woman changed the man into a raven, imprisoning him for an eternity inside the body of the bird. It is said that the woman and the raven learned work together, the woman satisfied of the man's everlasting incarceration, attempting to trick a person or people by telling them that they could see the future. If a witch or wizard was foolish enough to fall for their ruse, he or she would not live to see the next sunrise. The raven is said to have one its wings made of jewels as it is now equipped with the foresight to see into the future, rendering it prosperous and luxurious."

Harry sat in his seat, stunned by this superstition. He looked over at Hermione to see that her jaw had dropped during Mr. Weasley's tale.

"Did many people fall for their trick," Hermione asked.

"Oh yes, a great many in fact. You see, some people are desperate to know of their future, where they will end up, or with whom they end up with. I'm sure the two of you have thought about it more than once. If an offer comes along for you to see the future, would you turn it down? Of course, this is if you believe in such things. After all, no one really knows the truth of it, do they? I do find it rather odd that Professor Trelawney would go on about this old myth during a random Hogwarts lunch, though."

"I did too, at first," Hermione said after she took a moment to recollect herself, "but, Mr. Weasley, Harry and I were told by Andromeda about a wizarding community that was in Godric's Hollow, a community that was hidden behind a painting of the woman and the raven."

At this piece of news, Harry saw that Mr. Weasley's face turned suddenly very dark, as if death itself had strolled through his very door. Shadows seemed to manifest itself within the depths of his eyes, while his skin turned a deathly pale, as if he had been doused in a coat of white paint.

"You know of Twrill's Center," he asked with a murmur, so quiet that Harry wouldn't have believed he had said word if he didn't see his mouth move.

"You know of it too," Harry asked as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Mr. Weasley, are you okay," Hermione asked, after he didn't answer Harry's question, but instead, looked as if he was about to faint.

Harry stood to his feet seeing fear starting to morph over Mr. Weasley features, as he turned around, grabbed Hermione's hand, and pulled her to her feet to stand beside him.

Looking down at the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry said, "Mr. Weasley, what aren't you telling us?"

He closed his eyes at Harry's question, before he stood to his feet, and said in a shaky voice, "There's something that you need to see, someone that you have to meet, and he's in Twrill's Center. I'm afraid this cannot wait, we must go back to Godric's Hollow…now."

Harry was taken aback by how worried Mr. Weasley sounded and how anxious Mr. Weasley looked.

"Mr. Weasley-," Harry started but he was cut off.

"Not now, Harry, not here…I'll explain everything in due time, but we need to get to Godric's Hollow," he stated firmly, before he reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small slip of parchment and stuffed in his pants pocket.

Harry looked quickly at Hermione; with a slight nod of her head, the three clasped hands before Harry apparated them out of the Ministry of Magic in London, to West Country.

The three of them suddenly appeared on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, hidden by the forest trees that stood near Potter's Cottage, just in case a random soul happened to be out and about.

"Harry, why didn't you apparate us directly into Twrill's Center," Hermione asked, looking over at him in confusion.

"I tried to," Harry countered, thinking hard, "but I couldn't."

Hermione gazed over at Harry with a worried look plastered over her face.

"Is it possible that Twrill's Center has anti-apparation awards over it," Harry asked.

"No, because we were able to apparate out of it last night," Hermione replied with a troubled look on her face.

The two looked over at Mr. Weasley who said, "Hermione makes a good point: anti-apparation wards don't allow a witch or wizard to apparate into or out of any place that has implemented it. Something is definitely queer about that."

After a slight hesitation, Mr. Weasley said in a gruff voice, "Lead the way you two."

Before they could move, Harry turned back to him and asked, "Mr. Weasley, have you never been to Twrill's Center before?"

"That's correct, I haven't, however, I have heard of it, but not here, not now," he replied in a rather anxious manner, "remember what I told you back at the Ministry, I'll explain everything to you soon. Now lead on."

Harry was quite perturbed by Mr. Weasley's suddenly odd demeanor that overcame him when he and Hermione told him that they had visited Twrill's Center; nonetheless, the trio, seeing no one in sight besides a tall man who was dressed in a suit that was similar to that of Muggle work-clothes that was walking away from them who looked oddly familiar to Harry, folded out of their refuge from among the trees.

They walked past Potter's Cottage as Harry gave it a longing look, his memories of last night and early morning with Hermione surging back to him, yet Mr. Weasley seemed not to pay any attention to it.

As the thick, grey clouds continued to hang overhead, barring the sun from making its appearance, the trio continued on in silence, as quiet shrills of the wind blew over the village, rustling about the fallen leaves that were scattered over the ground.

Harry's heart and mind was beating out of time with one another, as he tried to process all the things Mr. Weasley had told him and Hermione back in his office: the possibility that Aunt Petunia could've been a witch…the mystery of the woman and the raven…something or someone Mr. Weasley knew in Twrill's Center…it was all so much to take in.

Harry glanced over at Hermione and saw that she had turned slightly whitish, though not nearly as much as Mr. Weasley, as Harry had no doubt that Hermione's mind was racing twice the speed of light, thinking over these new developments.

As they strolled past the war memorial and into the central part of Godric's Hollow, Harry knew exactly where to go.

Taking care that no one was watching them, the three disappeared between the two buildings, Talbert's Treasurers and Corvus, making sure to step over the pool of water that was gathered in the middle of the alleyway, before they stopped in front of the woman and the raven displayed upon a wall in front of them.

Harry looked at the painting and saw the raven situated on the woman's shoulders, one of its wings covered in black feathers, while the other was covered in jewels…exactly how Mr. Weasley had described of the raven before. Putting everything together mentally in his head, this woman, then, could be the woman who had gone into grief with the loss of her favorite son, thus driving her into a fit of absolute rage that made her kill her eight other children.

The uneasiness Harry had felt before of this painting and of Twrill's Center came rushing back into him, after he had a brief period of where he didn't think anything about this painting or this magical community was all that dangerous when he and Hermione had explored it the previous night. However, now it seemed obvious to him that his initial thoughts on believing that something more sinister was at work with this place seemed to be correct.

"This is fascinating," Mr. Weasley exclaimed quietly, "simply astounding!"

"It is," Hermione replied, before she looked over at Harry and urged, "go on, Harry."

He nodded at her as he took out his wand, tapped it three times against the graffiti art, and said, "Potter, party of two, I mean, three."

They watched as the woman blinked at them and nodded her head once, while the raven took flight, off of her shoulders, right before the woman disappeared. The artwork then enlarged before their very eyes, molding itself into a door in which Harry rested his hand upon, as he took a deep breath, and turned the knob, emitting them entrance into the magical community of Twrill's Center, that was engulfed within the Muggle community of Godric's Hollow.

After the three stepped over the threshold, their eyes immediately saw the staircase that led its occupants downwards, while a wide collection of voices rang against their ears.

"There seems to be a lot more people here today than last night," Harry commented to Hermione, who nodded her head at him. "Let's go, then," he stated, grabbing Hermione's hand in his, as they led the way down the steps with Mr. Weasley following close behind.

As they stepped into the seating area, they noticed that every single table was engaged, while the Corvus Canteen was full of witches and wizards.

"I hope Tabby isn't being overworked," Hermione stressed, seeing just how many people were in the Corvus Canteen at this time.

"Tabby," Mr. Weasley asked from behind them.

"It's the house-elf who workers here," Hermione relayed to him, as her warm, brown eyes scanned the room for the small elf.

"Over there, Hermione, look," Harry said, pointing a finger from his free hand over at the bobbing head of the small house-elf that was whizzing between several tables.

"Do you think we should help him," Hermione asked.

Before Harry could answer, Mr. Weasley said, "No, there's no time, we have more important matters to discuss. Harry, I believe there's more to Twrill's Center than this small eatery, is that correct?"

"Yeah," he replied, "we have to go through that red door over there," pointing over to the far end of the room.

"Let's go on, then," Mr. Weasley said.

Hermione was unwillingly pulled along by Harry, as he tore her away from the small house-elf that was running about.

The three squeezed their way between tables, they whiffed in smoke guests were blowing from their cigars, as they made their way to the red door that would emit them entrance to the rest of Twrill's Center.

Harry pushed through the door, with Hermione's hand still clasped in his, as the pair, followed by Mr. Weasley made their way up another flight of steps, as they finally found themselves within Twrill's Center.

Harry instantly noticed that the small magical community was much more crowded than the night before, as all of the stores were bristling with customers, as Lyn's Dulcis seemed to have drawn a particularly large crowd.

"Incredible," Mr. Weasley breathed out, looking around at the eight stores the lined the water's edge that separated them from each other. His eyes followed the still water down where it diverted into two separate pathways around the handsome, dark manor, before it disappeared into the dark forest beyond.

"What a place this is," Mr. Weasley said aloud, with a slight frown on his face as his hands rested on his hips.

After a moment, Harry, noticing that Mr. Weasley was still looking around Twrill's Center in interest, cleared his throat lightly, and asked, "Uh, Mr. Weasley, you said that there was something to do, or someone to meet here?"

The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement seemed to abruptly snap out of a trance he had been under, as he nodded his head at them, and said in a quiet voice, "There is someone that I would like you two to meet. I believe he has some answers for us about this place."

"Do you know where he is," Hermione asked.

"I have it written down here," Mr. Weasley said, digging out the piece of parchment he had taken from his desk drawer earlier and reading what it contained. "He's staying in someplace called Malvolia's Caravansary, in room 415."

"The inn," Harry questioned.

Mr. Weasley looked over at him and said, "You know of this place?"

"Well, not exactly, but I saw it last night when Hermione and I were walking around, it's the building next to the Corvus Canteen, just there," Harry responded, pointing his finger to a two-story structure, that resembled a squared box.

"Let's go then," Mr. Weasley said, waving his hand for Harry and Hermione to follow him.

Passing by a mother and her two kids, Mr. Weasley, Harry, and Hermione entered Malvolia's Caravansary by going through a wooden door. Harry looked around and saw that a small welcome desk was against a wall to their immediate left, while an open space filled with tables and chairs congregated around a fireplace stood to their right. A carpeted staircase stood directly in front of them, leading up to the second floor of the inn.

Without a word, the trio passed by the empty welcome desk on their left, while the few witches and wizards that were gathered around the cold fireplace on their right paid them no attention.

They took to the stairs before they arrived on the second landing, as Harry still has his hand embraced with Hermione's, while they followed Mr. Weasley down a silent hallway lined with wooden doors, as Harry noticed that silver-colored numbers were displayed upon on each one. Their footsteps were muffled against a maroon carpet they were walking upon as it seemed as if it took stretches of time to reach room 415.

When they finally did so, Mr. Weasley turned around to gaze over at Harry and Hermione wordlessly, before he turned back towards the door and knocked.

Harry noticed that when Mr. Weasley turned around to look at them, something in his eyes signaled that of nervousness and anxiety; it put Harry on edge as he looked over at Hermione to see that her face was strained with worry herself.

Slowly, the door to room 415 creaked open, as someone who Harry couldn't directly see asked, "Mr. Weasley, what is it?"

"Caleb, I brought some visitors with me…I think they're connected in this far more than any of us could have initially guessed," Mr. Weasley replied in a low whisper.

"Come in, then, come in," the voice said, as he opened the door wider to allow the trio entrance into his room.

After Mr. Weasley stepped through the open door, Harry looked over at who the voice belong to and saw a young man, who hardly looked older than Harry and Hermione in age. He ushered them hurriedly through the door before he shut and locked it.

Harry and Hermione followed Mr. Weasley into an open living area, where a torn, white couch, paired with a blue armchair, and a musty, skinny lamp was arranged. A small table was situated in front of the armchair, covered in piles of parchment, while a single bed was pushed into one corner, against a large crack in the wall. The curtains of two windows were opened, though only partially, as a kitchenette area stood against an opposite wall, while a door was positioned nearby, in which Harry presumed opened to the loo.

"Well, Caleb, I must say," Mr. Weasley started, looking around with a pinched nose, "I would have thought this place would offer better accommodations. After all, how hard is it for witches and wizards to perfect an inn with magic?"

"It's no bother, and as you well know, I don't exactly plan on staying here forever," the man named Caleb said.

"Of course, of course," Mr. Weasley nodded, before his eyes fell upon Harry and Hermione. "Well, I guess introductions are in order before we proceed, then, yes? Harry, Hermione, this is Caleb Griffin. Caleb, I don't think I need to tell you that this young man is Harry Potter, and this young lady is Hermione Granger."

Harry looked over at Caleb and saw that he had messy, light brown hair that was cut short, while his eyes were of a sparkling hazel. He wasn't very tall, though he also wasn't short, while he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. He face resembled that of someone who got some sleep, but not much of it, while his skin gave the notion that he didn't particularly enjoy the sun.

"I know you," Hermione suddenly said, as all heads in the room turned towards her, "I mean, I don't know you, but I saw you last night, in the Corvus Canteen."

"Yes, I saw you and Harry there as well," Caleb replied in a rather calmed tone of voice, "I was there reading over my notes, actually, which I had also been doing before you all arrived."

"Notes about what," Hermione questioned, looking over at the small table that was drowning under stacks of heavy parchment.

Caleb and Mr. Weasley shared a look, before the latter nodded his head at Caleb. The boy sighed, as he said, "You should all take a seat."

Harry looked over at Hermione who was gazing at him; with a shrug of her shoulders that said 'why not', the couple sat next to each other on the torn couch, while Mr. Weasley sat in the armchair that seemed a size too small for the wizard.

As Caleb scratched his cheek, as if he was trying to mentally sort through the various pieces of information inside his head, Harry looked over at Mr. Weasley and said, "Mr. Weasley, I don't understand what we're doing here?"

"Ah, well, I guess that would be my fault Harry, wouldn't it? How about I start, Caleb?"

Caleb held out his arms, motioning for Mr. Weasley to take the floor.

He stood to his feet, while Caleb stood behind him, as Mr. Weasley explained, "Caleb, here, visited me at the Ministry of Magic a short while ago. He told me of this small village, Twrill's Center, something that I had long forgotten."

"Forgotten," Harry asked, interrupting Mr. Weasley.

"Yes, Harry, forgotten. You see, Twrill's Center is not a new magical community by any means; it was actually one of the oldest magical communities in all of Europe."

"Mr. Weasley," Hermione started slowly, as Harry detected by the sound of her voice that she had pieced together a crucial bit of information, "do you mean to say that Twrill's Center is the sight of the superstition of where the woman and the man built the first magical community?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying. Do you remember when I told you about the man leading the woman to build their first home in a woodland?"

Both Harry and Hermione nodded their heads.

"The woodland lies behind that manor," Mr. Weasley said, waving his hand in the direction of it.

Hermione gasped while Harry, himself, was stunned, as he didn't even notice that he started to lose feeling in his hand that Hermione was squeezing with surprising strength.

"Yet, this area was abandoned some time ago, which is why many witches and wizards completely forgot that it ever existed, including that of the Ministry of Magic. However, recently, Twrill's Center has seen a resurgence, which started back in the early 1970s."

"Did people suddenly remember it was here," Harry asked.

"Of that, I am unsure. Our world has been so preoccupied with V-Voldemort, that we have turned a blind eye on Twrill's Center. You see, because of the myth surrounding the woman and the raven, no matter if you believe it or not, I can't say that I'm comfortable with this place, as fascinating as it is. Caleb has been my eyes here, reporting to me about any odd occurrences that have taken place," Mr. Weasley explained.

"But what does it have to do with us," Harry asked.

"I'm not sure if it has anything to do with you, Harry and Hermione, but I wanted you to be kept safe. After all, what you went through in defeating V-Vodemort, you deserve time for yourselves, away from the wizarding public, away from any hidden dangers. Because of your close proximity with Twrill's Center, Kingsley and I thought it would be best to erect magical wards over Potter's Cottage for the time being, until we can determine that there is no threat pertaining to the happenings of Twrill's Center."

"You placed magical wards on Potter's Cottage," Harry asked with a hint of mounting disappointment and mistrust, staring up at the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Harry, believe me, I did it, with Kingsley's approval, to protect you. I didn't want to tell you about Twrill's Center until I thought it was safe to do so. I don't know what type of danger, if any, lies within this community. You and Hermione don't deserve to be placed in harm's way, especially so soon after the war had ended. All the wards do is they protect you, Hermione, and the home from both Muggles and witches and wizards, nothing more, and nothing less. I should have informed both you and Hermione about the wards, but I didn't think it was the most pressing piece of information at the time. For that, I apologize."

Harry regarded Hermione before he turned his attention back towards Mr. Weasley and said, "No, it's alright…I just, I dunno, I'm surprised is all. Have you found anything about Twrill's Center, then?"

"That matter, I believe, rests with Caleb," Mr. Weasley said, gesturing for Caleb to take his place, while he returned to the small armchair.

Caleb looked down at Harry and Hermione, before he started, "I was able to find out some things. First, the manor that sits right before the woods is called Phosphenes. I know that a meeting is held in that mansion every other month, which would mean that the next meeting that is set to take place would be sometime in June. Apparently, the meeting is held at night and all of Twrill's Center is placed on some sort of magical lockdown. I don't know what the meeting is about, or who attends, but it looks to be some sort of cult."

"How did you find out about this, Caleb," Mr. Weasley asked.

"The innkeeper," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"The innkeeper willingly told you this information," Mr. Weasley questioned, his head cocked to one side.

Caleb looked at Mr. Weasley and said, "She found out about my…predicament."

Mr. Weasley was silent for a moment as he stared at Caleb with a face of stone.

"What predicament," Harry asked, looking back and forth between Caleb and Mr. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley and Caleb shared a look with one another before Caleb replied, "It's nothing important for now. I also found out that the leader of these meetings goes by the name of Rainer Tallis. I haven't been able to find anything about him from anyone. I do know that there is definitely something going on here, and it doesn't sound too good."

Mr. Weasley nodded his head while Harry sat next to Hermione, his confusion only mounting every instant. It felt as if Mr. Weasley and Caleb had a secret they were keeping from Harry and Hermione, that they were unwilling to share, and that made him very uneasy.

"Well, Caleb," Mr. Weasley said, standing to his feet, "I commend you for what you have found thus far. But, please be careful. Like you said, there definitely is something going on that doesn't feel right, but we don't have all the answers right now because we don't know exactly what questions to ask."

Caleb nodded his head in understanding.

Mr. Weasley sighed before he stated, "I'm afraid that I must head back to the Ministry now. We're still trying to round up rogue Death Eaters. Before I leave, however, I want to warn you Harry and Hermione, to not go looking for trouble. I know you can't help it when trouble finds you, but please understand where we are at with Twrill's Center."

"We'll stay out of the way, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said, as she too stood to her feet, while Harry did the same.

"Very well, then," he replied, giving them a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Now, you said, Harry, that you were able to apparate out of here, is that correct?"

Before Harry could answer, Caleb intervened and said, "That's right, but you cannot apparate inside the community. I don't know why that is, but that is what I'm trying to find out next."

Mr. Weasley nodded his head and said again, "Remember, you three, please be safe." Without another word, Mr. Weasley was gone with a small _POP_.

Caleb stood facing Harry and Hermione as a sense of awkwardness descended upon the new trio. Caleb was looking down at his shoes shuffling against the floor in an uncomfortable manner.

"Well, I don't really want to hold you two here if you have other things you'd like to do," he said, quickly glancing up at them before shifting his eyes back towards his shoes.

"Yeah, we'd better go," Harry commented, looking over at Hermione. "Um, it was nice meeting you and thanks for telling us about Twrill's Center."

Caleb looked up at them and nodded his head in understanding.

Harry then peeked down at Hermione and asked, "Ready to go?"

She nodded before she looked over at Caleb and said, "It was nice meeting you."

"You too."

Just as Harry was about to apparate he and Hermione out of Malvolia's Caravansary, he and Caleb shared a look, a look that resounded deep within Harry, like a gong had been struck; it was as if Harry knew who Caleb was, even though Harry had never met him before.

However, in the next second, Harry and Hermione were gone with a small _POP_.

They arrived back in the foyer of Potter's Cottage, as Hermione instantly dashed up the staircase, while Harry watched her go, before he turned and walked into the living room. He tugged off his green tie that Hermione had transfigured earlier for him, and unbuttoned his shirt so that he could breathe more easily. He kicked off his shoes as he lay down on the couch, covering his eyes with his arm.

So much had been said, yet so much had not been said. The superstition with the woman and the raven had finally been revealed yet it brought more questions with it than it did answers. Twrill's Center also seemed to harbor many secrets of its own, especially with these meetings a man by the name of Rainer Tallis held within his mansion every other month. Finally, there was something about Caleb that Harry couldn't quite place. Something seemed familiar about him, but Harry didn't have an idea what it was.

Hearing footsteps nearby, Harry removed his arm away from his eyes to see that Hermione had appeared in the living room, carrying a piece of parchment, a jar of ink, and a quill with her. Harry saw that she had changed out of her black dress she had worn to the funeral and sat down at the small table in the living room, before she started to scratch away.

"What are you doing, Hermione," Harry asked, looking over as she was furiously scrawling over her parchment.

"I'm taking notes on everything that we've been told today," she answered in a harassed manner, as if Harry had interrupted her from reading _Hogwarts, A History_.

"What do you think of everything that we've been told today," Harry questioned.

"Wait a moment; I want to write everything down before I forget," she replied quickly.

"You won't forget anything," he said, but Hermione seemed to either have not heard him or ignored his statement.

Minutes of silence passed between them, which lent to Harry a peaceful setting, with Hermione's quill scratches being the only source of noise within Potter's Cottage.

"There," Hermione said finally, "I finished." She set down her quill and turned to look behind her at Harry and said, "Harry, aren't you going to change? You're still wearing what you wore to the funeral."

Harry thought about the funeral of the Dursleys as he thought that even though it took place just this morning, a couple of hours ago in fact, it seemed as if the funeral had taken place in a different era.

"I'm too comfortable to move," Harry responded to her lightly. "What'd you think of everything that we've been told today?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a long moment before she answered, "It's just so much to take in, isn't it? That myth about the woman and the raven was just horrible, Mr. Weasley placing wards around this home, meeting Caleb and him being some sort of spy within Twrill's Center…it's all so confusing."

Something Hermione had said though increased Harry's awareness.

"What do you think about Mr. Weasley putting up wards around our home," Harry asked, making sure he used the vernacular 'our home.'

Hermione didn't seem to notice as she answered, "I don't think it was right not tell you…I mean it is your home after all. I know that he only had your best interests at heart but it almost seemed as if he was acting like-,"

"Dumbledore," Harry finished.

Hermione looked straight into his eyes before she nodded her head in agreement.

"It's not right to keep you out of these things," Hermione stated, "it could be dangerous."

"D'you really think these meetings take place in that mansion every other month…um, what was it called?"

"Phosphenes," Hermione answered him after a quick scan of her note-filled parchment. "And yes, I do but it's anyone's guess about what those meetings are about."

"And what about Caleb…do you trust him?"

"In a way, I kind of do," Hermione said slowly, as if she was carefully choosing her words, "there's something about him that makes me believe in what he told us today. It sounds silly, I know, but-,"

"I feel the same way," Harry intervened, cutting Hermione off again. "I know how you feel. It's kinda like I know him, even though I've never seen him before. It feels weird."

Hermione sighed loudly as she rubbed her eyes with her fists.

"You tired," Harry asked, seeing now that she looked as exhausted as he felt.

"I am…I think I'm going to have a lie down," she responded standing to her feet.

However, before she could walk away from him, he lightly grabbed her wrist, making her stop to look down at him.

"Stay with me," Harry said softly to her.

"Harry, that couch is tiny; it won't even fit the both of us," she exclaimed mildly, "and you're still in your dress shirt, slacks, and socks!"

He smiled up at her as he replied, "I already told you, I'm too comfortable to move. Please…stay."

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully before she gave in to Harry's pleas as she let him tug her down onto the couch. He scooted back as far as possible, while Hermione lay beside him. The instant she did so, he wrapped one arm around her, while he tangled one of his legs between hers. He sighed in contentment against her, as the two closed their eyes, their breaths moving in rhythm with each other. Harry pulled Hermione tighter against him as they lay side-by-side, the overcast skies of Godric's Hollow finally letting through the rain, like captives freed from their prison cells.

Small drops of water beat against the windows of Potter's Cottage, as the sky outside grew darker and darker. Harry and Hermione, however, paid it no attention for they were falling fast asleep, having gotten little rest the night before due to their nighttime festivities.

As Harry's eyes grew heavier and heavier, like two chests of buried treasure, he finally let sleep take him.

Harry suddenly found himself in a small boat, all by himself, sailing down a narrow river. The boat seemed to be moving on its own accord for the water it moved against was as still as stone. Trees lined the shores the boat went past, as it seemed as if this river cut straight through the heart of a large forest. The darkness behind the trees was foreboding, yet there was little Harry could do about it since night had befallen the setting. A full moon hung like a giant, white globe in the sky, while a sea of stars twinkled around it.

Harry gulped loudly and reached for his wand, only to find that he didn't have it. As worry surged through his bones, Harry suddenly wondered where Hermione was. He looked around, foolishly thinking that she would be hiding behind the trees of the woods, or swimming ahead of the boat he was in, but she was nowhere to be found. The darkness pressed in on him, forcing him towards the brink of complete and utter madness. He felt very alone, but something told him that he wasn't alone…the woods housed a creature that was watching his movements.

Suddenly, the boat started rocking; at first, it was gentle, but as the moments wore on, it became more vicious. Harry put out both of his arms as if to steady himself, as he was sure it would only be a matter of time before he fell into the black waters below. A sound was heard to his right. His eyes shot over only to find nothing there. The air then grew colder as it converged all around him, for he started shivering. The boat gave another almighty lurch, before Harry lost his footing. As he fell face first towards the water, he saw a reflection of white fur, a stain of red, and a mane of bushy hair before his face broke its still surface with the sound of glass raining in his ears.

Harry then bolted upright, gasping as if he had been rescued from nearly drowning, while his shirt was soaked in sweat. He looked around, only to find that Hermione was not with him.

"Hermione," Harry said, whipping his head around to find no one in sight, "Hermione!"

She then came into view, with a wash towel in her hands, as she seemed to be hurrying towards him. A powerful wave of relief slammed into him, so powerful, that he fell back against the couch, lying on his back, his breaths coming in short spouts.

She rushed over, sat down on the couch as Harry moved over to make room for her, and said, "Harry, I'm here, what is it?"

Lines of worry and fear spread over her young face, as she looked as if she was a decade or two older than her real age.

"You were gone," Harry whispered up to her.

She swallowed before she replied, "It was just a dream, Harry, that's it."

Hermione then took the wash towel and pressed it against Harry's forehead. He hummed a deep sigh when he registered that it was drenched in hot water.

Harry, however, didn't close his eyes, but instead, he stared up at Hermione, just looking at her.

She left the wash cloth on his forehead, before she reached down and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. His breathing became more uneven with each button she undid, as he continued to watch her heatedly, his eyes small pits of burning passion, longing and wanting to feel her hands against his bare skin.

When she finished, she took the wash cloth off of his forehead, and dabbed his chest, his torso, and then his stomach with it, ridding him of the last remnants of his nightmare he had had.

"Better," she asked softly.

"Much," was Harry's reply. "What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she started, "but I woke to you moaning. You then started tossing around…it looked like you were about to have a fit or something."

"I didn't hurt you, did I," he quickly inquired.

"No, I ran into the bathroom to get you this," she answered, holding up the wash cloth in her hand, "and you were awake when I came back."

When Hermione finished dabbing him down, he relaxed against the couch, unaware that he had been extremely tense just moments before.

"What was your dream about," Hermione asked him, as she continued to sit on the sofa, near his stomach, while Harry was stretched out next to her.

"It wasn't a dream, it was more like a nightmare," he replied, as he tried to remember what he had seen. "I was in a boat, I think, and there were a lot of trees around. The boat then started rocking, and I fell over. But before I hit the water, I saw something red and white, but I dunno what is was. Then I woke up. It's probably nothing," he shrugged, leaving out the fact that he had also seen Hermione's bushy hair.

"Just how your dream of the woman and the raven was nothing too, right," Hermione cajoled.

"That was different," he shot back.

"How?"

"It just felt different. The dream I had of the woman and the raven felt more thrilling. This nightmare that I just had felt like we were in danger."

"We," Hermione questioned, "I was in your dream too?"

"I couldn't see you, but it's like I could feel your presence nearby. I also felt another presence, too."

"Another person?"

"No, it was more like an animal or a creature," Harry answered. "It didn't feel right. I just wonder what it was about."

"Maybe things will start to make sense of themselves over time. We were given a lot of information today and as I told you before, I don't even know what to make of half of it." The expression upon Hermione's face was one of loss and misplacement; it was if she had a map with no destination in her hands, while she tried to make sense of the senseless.

Harry sat up and looked deeply at Hermione.

"You're worried, aren't you," he asked her.

"A bit," she relented quietly, "but I think it's disbelief more than anything else. We're wrapped in another mystery, Harry, so soon after the war. I didn't think it would be so difficult to find a short time of peace...maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part."

"Hermione, I'm going to keep you safe no matter what it takes."

She laughed lightly before she replied in a mocking manner, "You know, Harry, I am capable of taking care of myself."

"I know that, but I want to keep you safe, it makes everything worth more," he replied, drawing closer and closer to her. "You make everything worth more to me."

Ever so slowly, Harry kissed her lips. After a minute that seemed like a mere second, he pulled away, as he noticed the look of disappointment on her face.

He didn't want to stop the kiss, but he had a question in his mind that he wanted to ask Hermione.

"Hermione, before when we were with Mr. Weasley, you seemed kind of embarrassed when he asked you about the first time you did magic. What happened?"

Her cheeks twinged a light pink, while she said, "I'll explain it to you over lunch. We haven't eaten anything all day yet and I'm hungry."

Hermione stood to her feet and made her way towards the kitchen. Harry made to follow her, however, she whipped around, and placed a hand on his chest, her skin touching his.

"You have to change first, Harry. I know you're not comfortable in those clothes," she reprimanded him.

He sighed loudly as he made sure she saw him roll his eyes. As he turned around, he mumbled, "This had better be a good story."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, this chapter was supposed to inform and confuse...I believe it did both. I hope the story is starting to form for you, as there will be a lot of Harry/Hermione moments in the next chapter, along with more of the mystery aspect of my story. Looking ahead, I believe my story will top around 22 or 23 chapters (as they are quite long), before its end. Chapter 19 will be posted this coming **Wednesday morning**. Thanks for the reviews everyone has left, and as always, thanks for reading.


	19. A Dawning Resolution

Chapter 19: A Dawning Resolution

Warning: This chapter contains material meant for mature audiences.

Harry changed out of his funeral clothes and into more comfortable attire before he made his way back down the staircase and into the kitchen, where a magical whiff of roasted chicken infiltrated his nostrils.

He looked over at the kitchen table and saw a plate with the meat situated atop of it, while two small bowls of brussels sprouts and carrots whizzed by his head to take places at the table as well.

Hermione turned around and when she spotted Harry, she said, "Oh, good, you're just in time for lunch! Take a seat."

He did as he was told as Hermione took the seat opposite him. Harry cut the chicken up and placed a serving on Hermione's plate first, and then put a helping on his.

"Don't forget the vegetables," Hermione said, nodding towards the brussels sprouts and carrots.

Harry mumbled softly so that Hermione couldn't hear him but he nonetheless rested a large helping of vegetables on his plate to placate her.

As he chewed on a piece of chicken, his stomach rumbled its approval. He sighed in satisfaction while he looked over at Hermione.

"So, Hermione," Harry started, swallowing his chicken, "are you going to tell me what happened the first time you used magic?"

Just like before when they were back in Mr. Weasley's office in the Ministry of Magic, her cheeks blushed a light pink.

"Oh…it's not really that important," she stated, shrugging her shoulders.

"You'd said you would tell me over lunch," Harry replied.

Hermione sighed in defeat, as she wiped her mouth with her napkin before setting it on the table and staring over at Harry.

"It's not that great of a story," she muttered, "I'm just a little embarrassed by it is all."

"Well let's hear it, then," Harry said, urging for her to go on.

"It happened when I was primary school. The school I went to celebrated our birthdays according to the month we were born in, so since I was born in September, I celebrated my birthday along with all of the other kids that were born in September on the last Friday of the month. In the school I went to, there were only two people born in September, me and Peggy Walover."

"I'm guessing by your tone that you and this Peggy Walover didn't get on very well," Harry questioned, setting down his fork and knife so that he could give Hermione his complete and undivided attention.

"No, we didn't. Peggy Walover was a girl that had everything, really. She was cute, she had long, straight brown hair, she had the perfect Paddington Bear lunchbox, her mum was a TV actress, and she had many friends. It was like she was my exact opposite. She would always pick on me on the playground, making fun of my hair, and saying that I didn't have any real 'people' friends because all of my friends were imaginary.

"Anyway, on the last Friday of September, after I turned six, my teacher, Mrs. Jones, said that our parents could bringing in two small cakes for the entire class to enjoy. Both my mum and dad baked a cake for me, and designed it themselves. It was small but it was pretty, too. It had butterflies and flowers on it. I liked it a lot and I thought the class would be able to enjoy it. Peggy's cake, however, which her mom had bought at the store, was three times the size of my cake and it had Paddington Bear all over it. No one paid any attention to the cake my parents made as everyone wanted a piece of hers.

"So my parents and I sat at a table by ourselves, with a boy named Edward Michaels while everyone else crowded around her cake. Peggy didn't like Edward because he picked his nose. I was so ashamed that everyone liked Peggy's cake over mine that I just lost control."

"What happened," Harry asked, as his heart ached for this younger Hermione he had never known.

"Peggy's Paddington Bear cake exploded," she answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

Harry stared at Hermione for a second before his face broke into a wide grin, as he then started laughing.

"It's not funny, Harry," Hermione scolded, but he could see that she was refraining to smile herself.

"So what happened next," Harry questioned, laughter still coursing through his body.

"Peggy cried because her cake was ruined, while Peggy's mum I think was crying harder than her daughter because she received an entire face-full of cake. She said her 'designer makeup' was ruined by the icing or whatever rubbish she came up with," Hermione said, waving her hand and rolling her eyes.

"And you're embarrassed by that," Harry inquired.

"Yes, because it was my first time that I was ever able to perform magic. Of course, at the time, I didn't know how I was able to do it, but I could just feel it inside of me. It felt weird but I didn't tell my parents about it; I kept it to myself until now."

"Apart from you being outshined by Peggy's cake, I thought that was a pretty good story," Harry acquiesced.

"I'm glad you think so, because I didn't," Hermione stated, cutting into her chicken again.

"Why?"

"Peggy blamed the cake incident on me. Obviously she couldn't prove it, but from that day on, she picked on me even more than before," Hermione answered, "that's why I was so thrilled when I found out about Hogwarts so that I could get away from her and her friends."

Something in Hermione's voice roused something deep inside Harry that made him distinctly uncomfortable.

"They didn't hurt you, did they," he asked, his voice low, as if a black panther had awoken from his deep slumber, rearing its big head to go into a mode of protection for Hermione.

"Not physically but they would do other things like they spilled juice all over a new dress my mum bought for me, or they would steal my lunchbox, and one time, they put glue in my hair."

"Glue?"

"Yes, that was pretty bad. I had to cut my hair so short that Peggy and her friends called me a boy for the next month at school," Hermione said. "It was awful."

Harry reached across the table to touch Hermione's hand gently. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, you have nothing to be sorry for, Harry."

"No, I mean, I'm sorry for bringing it up. I can't even imagine what your life was like after the cake incident," he replied.

"Well, it's in the past now. I don't ever really think about it all that much to be honest with you," Hermione said.

Harry nodded his head in understanding, accepting the fact that Hermione didn't value bringing up Peggy Walover and her Paddington Bear cake fiasco.

"I actually did see Peggy a couple of times during the summer holiday after I started Hogwarts," Hermione commented.

"You did," Harry asked.

Hermione nodded her head and replied, "But we never said anything to each other."

"Did she recognize you?"

"I'm positive she did...I mean, I haven't really changed too much from primary school."

"Where did you see her?"

"She actually lived close to where my parents did, like two streets over, I think. I used to see her when I went to the local park to read a book," Hermione explained, "and she was always there snogging a boy she never intended to hang on to."

"Well, we don't have to worry about her anymore, then," Harry said, picking up his knife and fork and returning to his lunch.

They finished off their food, telling each other stories of different times they used magic unexpectedly up until their first arrival at Hogwarts.

As night came, Harry changed into his night attire when a thought came to him as he ventured out of his bedroom and into Hermione's, with a flush crawling up his neck. She was sitting on her bed, resting against the headboard, her bed sheets pulled up on her lap, reading a book.

"Hermione," Harry started, grabbing her attention, "did you want to stay with me tonight?"

She set down her book, _The Magical Brethren and its Secret Tomes_ , before replying, "Maybe not tonight, Harry. I think it would be best if we took things slow now instead of rushing into something we'll both regret later."

"Oh, yeah, um, okay, right," Harry stammered in a disorderly manner, "yeah, fine."

As Harry made to exit her room, Hermione called out, "Good night, Harry."

He faced her and gave her a smile in return that didn't quite reach his eyes without saying a word. Walking into his own empty room, he hung his head dejectedly, as he had hoped he would have been able to spend another precious night with Hermione in his bed, not just to satisfy his male teenager hormones, but he liked being physically close to her as well. She was a comfort to him, someone who chased away his nightmares to give him a restful night of sleep.

The boundaries of their relationship were not well defined, Harry noted mentally, as one night they were sleeping on separate matches positioned next to each other, another night they were sleeping together, and another night they were sleeping in entirely separate rooms. Harry needed to rectify their standpoint on where they stood with each other, as he had a feeling that they were standing on different grounds in how they viewed their relationship, not that that was much pf a problem, if one at all, but all Harry knew was that he wanted her, and he wanted her bad.

He fell face-first onto his bed, his body bouncing up and down against the mattress's springs, as he buried his head into one of his pillows, his heart aching for Hermione to be with him at that moment. Now all alone in his bed, Harry felt that it was far too big for himself, as it felt like an ocean he could swim around in, its waters rippling in small waves of rejection. Shaking these thoughts from his head, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Although sleep sneaked upon him, Harry kept waking up in various hours of the dead night, always alone, his bed bare from anyone and anything but himself. Groaning quietly in frustration as to not to wake Hermione in the next room over, he could only wonder if she was having just a restless night as he.

The next several days wore on, as heavy clouds of gray hung over Godric's Hollow, preventing the sun from making an appearance. Small yet light rain showers became a common occurrence, though Harry didn't mind, for his attention was on something, or rather, someone else.

Every morning, after Harry awoke, he would always spot a tall man from his living room window, who seemed to be dressed in the same Muggle work attire he wore every time Harry saw him. Harry remembered seeing him a couple days prior when he, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley arrived in Godric's Hollow to meet Caleb. Harry didn't know the man, but he was vaguely uncomfortable thinking about him. When he told Hermione of this, she frowned, before she added it to her parchment of notes that she had started to keep after their meeting with Mr. Weasley and Caleb.

One day, a break from the dreary clouds allowed Godric's Hollow to bask in sunshine bliss. The air was cool for a summer day, as small wisps of clouds floated high into the sky, bothering no one and nothing.

Harry was waiting in the foyer of Potter's Cottage for Hermione, late in the afternoon, in a light gray jacket, as she had just run upstairs to grab something she forgot. The pair had decided to travel back to Hogwarts to help with the repairs, after heavy coaxing from Hermione, as Harry finally relented, though he was hesitant to do so. He knew that she wanted to help out so badly, but he didn't want to see her exhaust her magic the way she did before.

In the next moment, Hermione came barreling down the staircase in a jeans jacket, until she stopped in front of Harry.

"What did you need to get," he asked her, his eyebrows pulled together.

"Oh, just something I forgot," Hermione replied, mystery seeping through her words, like smooth water running over glossy diamonds.

"Well, okay then, just remember, Hermione-," Harry started.

"To not use too much of my magic. If I feel tired, I should stop and take a break," Hermione finished for him in a monotone voice, rolling her eyes in the process. "You must've told me a hundred times already, Harry, I know."

"Just wanted to make sure you got the message," Harry said back, smiling down at her.

"I'll be fine, I promise," she told him.

Nodding his once, Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and apparated them out of Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow, and to Hogwarts Castle.

In the next moment, they appeared just inside the Entrance Hall of the ancient castle. They looked around and noticed that the hall seemed to be in much better shape than before. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and led her past the staircase and to the library, knowing that the library would be one of the places Hermione wanted to check out, as they had repaired most of it previously before Hermione used too much of her magic and fainted.

They entered through the door and Harry saw that the entire library had been repaired. One of the walls that had lay in ruins of slabs of concrete and jagged rocks previously had been erected, the library whole once more.

"It looks good, don't you think, Harry," Hermione said, looking around.

"Yeah it does," he answered her. "Do you think much of the castle has been repaired?"

"I don't know, but we have been gone for over a week. I can't imagine everyone else did the same. Let's have a look around and see though," suggested Hermione, leading Harry out of the newly mended library.

As they traveled back into the Entrance Hall and up the staircase, they saw tiny Professor Flitwick making his way towards them.

"Professor," Hermione called out, "Professor Flitwick!"

The Ravenclaw head of house looked up and smiled when he saw Harry and Hermione.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, what a pleasant surprise to see the both of you! I didn't think you would be back so soon," he said up to them.

"So soon, sir," Harry asked, not understanding what Flitwick meant.

"Headmistress McGonagall informed us about what happened to you, Miss Granger, how you used too much of your magic in such a short span of time. We didn't think the two of you would be back for some time," he answered them.

"Well, we were gone for over a week," Hermione told him.

"As well as you should have," he said back to her, "exhausting your magic is a matter that should be taken seriously and not jostled with, Miss Granger!"

"Sir, how much is there left to do here? Are there any parts of the castle that still need to be fixed," Harry asked.

"There isn't much left to do, actually. Many volunteers have been helping out and we have progressed much farther than us professors had initially thought. There are, of course, some missing window panes here and there, with cracks in some far-off walls, but other than that, Hogwarts needs no other work to be done to it," Flitwick responded happily. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to see to a little snack before dinner." With that, the Charms professor walked away from them, humming quietly to himself.

Harry and Hermione looked at one another before she said, "Well, I didn't think Hogwarts would be fixed so soon. Did you want to stay here or did you have something else in mind?"

Harry didn't want to leave just yet, as a small smile formed on his face, in which Hermione noticed before she asked, "What are you thinking of, Harry?"

"Come with me," he suddenly said, pulling her hand back down the steps, through the Entrance Hall, and out of the great front doors of the citadel. Once outside, they both breathed in the fresh air, as their footfalls crushed the grass underneath their feet. Two birds were chasing each other over the quiet, sloping grounds of the castle before they both disappeared into the Forbidden Forest while the sky had turned a dark blue, as the sun began to set over the horizon.

"Harry, where are we going," Hermione asked him, though something in her tone of voice told Harry she knew exactly where he was leading her. For not a moment later, the pair had entered into the Quidditch stadium, the pitch bare of any living soul, sans Harry and Hermione.

Harry let go of Hermione's hand as he took a deep breath as the Quidditch pitch was of his form; he felt comfortable here as he raced around the arena numerous times over the years, trying to catch the ever-evading Golden Snitch.

"Do you think it feels bigger, Hermione," Harry asked curiously, looking around.

"Maybe a bit," she said at first, "but then again, there's no one here except the two of us."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said quietly after a moment.

"You want to go flying, don't you," Hermione asked from behind him.

He turned to look at her as he inquired, "It is that obvious?"

"Yes, it is, but it's what you like to do. Why don't you go flying then?"

"I haven't got a broom," Harry said, giving her an odd look, as if his answer was a matter of common sense.

Hermione smiled at him before she reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like to Harry, a stick.

"Hermione, what is that," he asked her.

"Wait," she said. She then took out her wand, pointed it at the stick and said, " _ENGORGIO_." Instantly, the stick expanded into his Firebolt.

Harry's eyes widened as he was momentarily stumped for words. When he was able to find his voice, he asked, "Hermione, where did you get this?"

"From your trunk in your room," she replied simply.

"This is what you had to get before we left Godric's Hollow," Harry questioned.

She nodded her head wordlessly as she held out the Firebolt for Harry to take. When he did so, the broomstick seemed to vibrate under his touch, as if it knew it was about to be airborne.

Smiling at Hermione's ingenuity, Harry mounted his Firebolt before giving her one last look, almost as if he was trying to mentally will her to climb on behind him. She shook her head lightly from side to side with a small smile displayed on her face, while she gestured for him to go.

"I'll be back," he told her, to which she stepped back from him, as his broomstick hovered so that his feet were unable to touch the ground.

After taking a deep breath, Harry took off from as he bolted straight upwards into the sky. Having not ridden his broom in months, the feeling of freedom from flying gushed through Harry like a surge of potent energy.

He reveled in the midst of the wind ruffling his hair into an even messier conglomeration, as he smiled with the scream of the breeze in his ears, sounding like a pair of songbirds crooning into a morning sky.

The sun, now representative of a great ball of fire, started to sink lower and lower behind the rolling hills of Hogwarts, while Harry's small shadow flew directly away from it. He noticed the sky had started to fade from a brilliant gold and red into a light purple, as the early stars of the sky had started to appear, chasing away the sun.

Harry flew his Firebolt up and over the towers of Hogwarts, zigzagging over the fortress that had been his home ever since he first set foot in the castle. A warm breadth of peace consumed his heart as he looked down upon the citadel, now knowing that much of it has been repaired since the final battle that had nearly imploded it into a mass ruin of stone and glass.

Harry then maneuvered his broom so that it flew over the Forbidden Forest, as his feet skimmed the top of the green trees, dancing in the wind. A few stray leaves that had departed from its source followed Harry's lightning-paced speed, before he dived into the fray.

His supreme Quidditch skills had him twisting and turning through the mass of the thick trees of the forest, his hurried broom being the only source of noise within the creeping darkness as the solid foliage of the trees obscured any light from penetrating within.

His smile grew wider and wider as he made his Firebolt go faster, while he rushed over a narrow creek protruding from a mess of rocks along the way. The shadowy solitude of the Forbidden Forest proved to be a source of comfort to Harry, as it seemed as if it protected him from the public eye that he detested, especially when he was at the epicenter of it.

He passed over several toppled trees, its roots having been savagely ripped from the earth, looking similar to skeleton-like fingers hanging strangely in the air. Harry instantly thought of Hagrid's half-brother, Grawp, whom he had kept hidden in the forest during his fifth-year. Sure enough, an instant later, Harry's eyes skimmed over the broken rope that had shackled Grawp to the surrounding trees, tethering him from gallivanting off into the woods. Harry shook his head at the memory of Grawp, while his Firebolt continued to zoom forward.

As the trees began to thin, Harry could barely make out the final rays of the sun over the grounds of Hogwarts as it began to fade from existence, making way for the ethereal glow of the moon that would soon follow.

Harry flew back towards the Quidditch pitch where he spotted the tiny figure of Hermione waiting for him directly at its center. He lowered his broom down towards her but he didn't get off.

"How was it Harry," she asked, with a knowing smile on her face.

"It was incredible, just like it always is," Harry replied, "but I want you to come with me."

"Harry, no way, you know very well that I don't like to fly," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest in a stand of defiance. "I'm not very good at it."

"You don't have to be," he answered her, "I'll by flying, you'll just be riding behind me."

Hermione seemed to contemplate his words as Harry thought that she was mentally having a conversation with herself.

She shook her head against from side to side, as she protested, "No, I think I'll be fine on the ground, actually."

"Hermione, trust me," Harry said softly, holding out his hand for her to take. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

She looked at his outstretched hand and replied, "I know you wouldn't, Harry, but I'm just not someone who likes to fly."

"Please, just come with me…I'll go slow, I promise," Harry said.

She hesitated before she sighed in defeat, as she placed her hand in his, and climbed aboard behind Harry. The second she did so, she wound her arms around Harry's middle, clutching so tightly that it nearly cut off his air supply.

"Hermione, I haven't even started moving yet," Harry heaved out, loosening her arms from around him so that he could breathe in a normal fashion.

"Sorry," she muttered quietly.

"Don't worry about it," he said back to her.

"Please, just don't go fast," she told him.

Harry smiled to himself as he answered her, "I won't."

He then nudged his broomstick forward at a slow pace, as they flew low towards the ground, over the short grass of the Quidditch pitch swaying in the gentle breeze. They encircled the pitch three times, following its oval-like shape so that Hermione could get used to the freedom of flight. Each time they went around the stadium, Harry flew them higher and higher.

"Are you okay, Hermione," Harry asked over his shoulder as he noticed that she had not uttered a single word for the last couple of minutes.

"Fine," she squeaked out, as Harry felt her forehead pressed into the middle of his back.

"Hermione, open your eyes," Harry gently coaxed to her.

He felt her remove her head from his back as she suddenly gasped, and clung on to Harry tighter than before.

"Harry, don't you think we're too high," she asked him in a small voice, "it's too dangerous."

"Hermione, remember what I told you before: I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Harry said.

"I know, I know," she said in a quick manner, "but the perspective is much different when you're so high off of the ground!"

"Well, then, hang on, I'm going to fly a little faster," Harry said.

"Harry James Potter! You told me that you were going to go slow," Hermione yelled, her voice shrill, molded within a panicked tone.

"I'm not going to go too fast! But, I wanted to take you around," he finished. "Everything is so much more different than it is on the ground."

After a moment, he felt Hermione slacken her grip as she stated, "Okay, but please don't go too fast. I think I might lose my mind up here if you do."

Exchanging no further words, Harry flew his Firebolt away from the Quidditch stadium, though he kept a steady pace, not flying too fast but not flying too slow either.

As they made their way over the quiet grounds of the castle, small lights started protruding from within Hogwarts, casting small squares of light over the darkened grounds. Harry closed his eyes as a strong wind washed over the pair, making Hermione shiver behind him.

Feeling her against his back, something inside of Harry stirred at Hermione's closeness to him on his Firebolt, as if a door of desire had been blasted apart, sending Harry's wayward thoughts into mystical, faraway lands of lust and passion, taking him and Hermione deeper and further into…

"Harry, this is beautiful," Hermione suddenly exclaimed, scattering Harry's feelings like an upturned bag of marbles, each tiny, glass ball rolling away from him as he desperately tried to cling on to every last one.

"What? Oh, um, yeah, it definitely is," he stammered, as a deep blush coated the back of his neck. He was thankful that the sky had turned dark so that Hermione couldn't see.

He then looked around towards the great, open sky, and saw that the sun had finally lost the war it had waged from the early morning, as the stars glimmered against the nighttime like a sea of unwed jewels, as the crescent moon abruptly appeared as a kerfuffle of cotton ball-like clouds dispersed away from it.

Harry halted his Firebolt in midflight as he and Hermione sat in a daze atop of his broomstick, over the vastness of the Black Lake, looking like a lost pair of love bugs against the great blackness beyond, into the world of the unknown. Harry gulped loudly as he thought that it was both enchanting and haunting at the same time. It was alluring for sure, almost as if the night sky was inviting Harry and Hermione to fly forth, yet something along the lines of horror seemed to be lurking behind it, waiting to feast on fresh flesh.

"So what do you think, Hermione? Everything looks a little different from up than it does from the ground, doesn't it?"

"You're right, it does," she answered back, still with a touch of awe in her voice.

Harry turned his head around and planted his lips against her forehead, lingering longer than he had to. He saw a smile creep over her face before he slowed pulled back, and gestured his broomstick forward.

They flew close to the smooth, cool surface of the Black Lake, its waters still as stone beneath them. Harry looked down and thought that he could dive into the open nothingness the water seemed to harbor, stretches of time lost about him. He, of course, would take Hermione with him, as they could forget about everything else and just focus on one another. Harry distinctly felt that he was tiptoeing his way back towards the door of desire that had since been erected from before when it had been blasted apart.

As the Gryffindors continued their flight, Harry wanted to take Hermione away from everyone and everything, so that he could enjoy her for his own. A time was coming for Harry to speak his thoughts and wants to Hermione, holding nothing back, keeping no secrets from her.

For some time now, Harry truly wanted to tell Hermione how much she really meant to him, as he skirted over the idea of 'love', yet something always seemed to hold him back, chaining him to an anchor cast into the uncharted waters of the unfamiliar. It was like he kept swimming against an unconquerable tide that always reeled him back in from expressing to Hermione his deepest aspirations.

Harry wanted to live on Hermione's love, something he was aware she had for him, yet a faraway echo troubled his chances of doing so. Something dangerous seemed to be calling to them, though only Harry had ears to hear it, and it was why Harry always repeated over and over to Hermione that he was going to keep her safe, no matter what the costs of doing so.

She was more precious to him than all the gold in the world could ever muster together that was unearthed. It was a wonder how he never noticed it before while they were at school together. It took an entire war for his feelings to shift for her, in ways like a small snowball does when it rolls down a large hill.

As she hugged his back, he breathed out in a comforting manner, wishing they could dissolve away together, only for them to go away and see where their footfalls take them, over the deep, into the wild, or across the sea, it didn't matter to Harry. What only made the difference was that Hermione was with him, every step of the way, staying with him and being with him. They could wander along the midst of the horizon, making strangers of time, but not for time to make fools of themselves.

"Harry, can we go somewhere private? I want to talk to you," Hermione said softly into his ear, making Harry shudder.

"Uh, sure," he said back to her, maneuvering his broom away from the Black Lake and towards the Astronomy Tower. He flew his Firebolt through one of the open archways the tower housed, as Hermione carefully dismounted, with Harry following suit.

"What did you want to talk about," Harry asked, looking down at Hermione in the quiet darkness, with the stars the moon being their only source of light atop of the tower.

He saw that her cheeks were glowing with the color of a prime rose, as her hair was a messy entanglement, yet she seemed to be glowing from their ride together; to him, she looked breathtaking.

"Well, it's about Caleb," she replied, wringing her hands together as her brow furrowed.

"What 'bout him," Harry inquired.

"Harry, I think we should help him."

"Help him?"

"Yes, help him with his investigation with Twrill's Center," she suggested.

"It's too dangerous, Hermione," Harry said instantly, shaking his head slightly.

"How could you possibly know that, Harry?"

"Do you remember when we told Mr. Weasley about us knowing of that place," Harry asked. "He turned pale and he looked so serious all of a sudden. There's something wrong with that place, Hermione, and I don't know what it is."

"Then this is our chance to find out! Harry, we've been in dangerous situations before," Hermione said to him.

"Which is exactly why we shouldn't become too involved," he replied back. "I don't want to be in those types of situations again, so soon after the war…it's just too much."

"Harry," Hermione started in a soft voice, "I know it's hard, trust me, I do. But Mr. Weasley told Caleb that he thinks you and I are a part of whatever is going on in Twrill's Center more than they had originally thought."

"Which is just another reason why we shouldn't become too involved," Harry said again, continuing to look down at Hermione, standing his ground. However, in this imminent battle of wills, Harry didn't think there would be a clear winner and loser, as both he and Hermione was as stubborn as one another.

"Harry, if what Mr. Weasley said was true, that we are more involved with Twrill's Center, the only way to end it is to find out what it is really about," she reasoned.

"Is that what this is about, Hermione? You're going to automatically accept Mr. Weasley's word that you and I are related to Twrill's Center in some sort of way? There's no evidence for it. Yes, there's something strange about that place, I can feel it whenever we go there, but why do you want to run into danger? I think there's something more to this that you're not telling me than about finding out how much we're involved."

"It's like you said before: I think all of this, everything that has happened to us since the end of the war, everyone that has died since the end of war…all of it is connected. What if we're responsible for the Dursleys deaths, what if we're responsible for Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones' deaths…what if I'm responsible for my parents' deaths," she finished in a whisper.

"Don't talk like that, Hermione, I mean it," Harry said to her in a dangerous tone, anger flashing through him.

She paused for a second, then pressed on, "But what if, Harry? I want to know. Maybe the more we know, the more we can prepare."

"Prepare for what?"

"For anything," Hermione said simply, shrugging her shoulders.

Harry sighed audibly as he walked away from Hermione, as he leaned his Firebolt against one of the archways of the Astronomy Tower. He looked out over the silent grounds of Hogwarts castle, thinking over Hermione's words and rationale.

A cool breeze swam over his face as he closed his eyes into its touch. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he knew she was right: whether they wanted to accept it or not, he and Hermione were tied down to Twrill's Center as these events and deaths certainly were connected. He turned back to face her as she gazed over at him in a worried manner.

"If, Hermione, if we were to get involved, what would you suggest…what would you ask Caleb?"

A moment of relief broke over her face, that it was rather subdued, as she said, "Well, first, I would ask him if he's found out anything more of the meeting that takes place in the manor, Phosphenes, every other month. That would be a place to start. Also, I would ask Caleb if he found out anything more about the leader of the meetings, I'm pretty sure his name was Rainer. Caleb also said that he would look into why we are unable to apparate directly into Twrill's Center when we can apparate out of it."

Harry nodded his head and said with a heavy sigh, "We can go visit him tomorrow, if you want to."

Hermione was quiet for a moment before she said slowly, "I'd like that."

"You know that I don't like this though, don't you," Harry asked, as he walked back over to Hermione.

After a split moment, the corners of Hermione's mouth turned upwards as she started to smile.

"What's so funny," Harry asked defensively.

"Nothing, it's just that while we were at school, you were the one that would want to go off and uncover all of these mysteries while I was usually the sensible one. But now, it seems like we have switched roles," she answered.

Harry returned her grin and reached out his hand for her to take, in which she did. He pulled her gently over to one of the open archways of the tower before they sat down next to each other, releasing the hold of their hands before looking out over at the unmoving waters of the Black Lake, and up at the dazzling night sky as it disappeared behind the surrounding hills of the castle.

"It's like I told you many times before: I just want you to be safe, Hermione," Harry said at last.

"Harry, I want you to be safe, too."

However, he shook his head and said, "I don't think you understand. It's like you're a part of me, Hermione, like you make me whole. If someone or something attacks you, they attack me too. I just can't stand the thought of you getting hurt like you did back in Australia. I should've done more for you, and I regret it every day. Seeing you in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's made me feel sick…it was…I never felt the way I did before while you were hurt. It was like I couldn't keep you away from harm, like I couldn't protect you; I felt helpless."

At his words, Hermione grabbed his hand again and squeezed it, as if she was trying to give him a sense of reassurance. "You're right, maybe I don't understand, but I've been beside you Harry many times while you were injured here at Hogwarts. I know the feeling of being helpless…it's nothing new to me. But Harry, I meant what I said to you before: I want you to be safe too."

"My safety doesn't compare to yours," he stated, not looking at her. "It never did, not to me."

Hermione pulled her hand free from Harry's grasp as she asked, "Do you not think that I can't handle myself?"

At her question, Harry was hurt. After how long he has known her, how could she possible think of something like that to say?

"How could you ask something like that, Hermione? You know how highly I think of you…that hasn't changed."

"Then what has changed," she asked, looking over at him.

Harry didn't answer her right away as he turned his attention over the far-reaching hills that surrounded the citadel. It seemed to stretch on as long as the horizon would allow, as it seemed to have no beginning and no end. It was a sight of calm, looking at the hills, as it seemed to be docking a certain peace within its boundaries, even if Harry didn't engage in those same sentiments.

"We could build something together, Hermione, just the two of us," he said unhurriedly.

"What," she asked, "what could we build?"

"A home."

Silence fell upon the pair, as Hermione turned her head to look at Harry, even though he still didn't look at her.

"That's what you want isn't it…a home?"

"That and a family," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "it's all I ever wanted, really. I don't care about gold, or fame and fortune because none of that mattered, not to me at least. Is it so hard to understand?"

"Not for me, but for the people that you saved during the war, it's probably something that most of them will never come to terms with," Hermione answered him.

"I didn't save the wizarding world, Hermione, many people did," Harry said.

"That's true but you had the biggest part."

"Right now, I just want a quiet life. A life away from everyone and everything…well, not everyone," Harry said, looking back at Hermione, which drew up a smile from her. "But I think people think I deserve more, a lot more, when I just don't want anything else."

"Is that where you see yourself in the future…away from everyone and everything," Hermione questioned.

"I see myself in Godric's Hollow, but to me, that's home. Since we've been there, no one has come to visit which is what I prefer. It's been calm there, well, that is until this Twrill's business came up and all. But I've never really thought about the long-term, like when I'm forty or fifty years old, it seems like it's such a long way off."

Hermione laughed quietly as she replied, "That's one of the last conversations I had with my parents."

At this, Harry stared at her, unblinking and unmoving, knowing that Hermione's parents were a hard subject for her to approach.

"They said that before they had me, they enjoyed their time together as they took life just one day at a time. But after I was born, life seemed to fast-forward and never seemed to slow down. My dad said that one day he was twenty-two, and the next morning he was forty-two. We'll reach that age one day, Harry, but who knows what the world will be like then."

"Are you scared of the future, Hermione?" It was a question so simple, yet it provoked many different thoughts and feelings from within an individual that Harry didn't really have an answer himself.

"In a way," she said slowly, as if testing the words she spoke, "I don't really know what I'll be doing or where I'll be. I know you said that I could move in with you in Potter's Cottage but I don't know."

"You don't know if you want to move in with me," Harry asked, hurt burrowing through his heart.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," she insisted, shaking her head from side to side, "all I meant was that I don't know what my life is going to be like in the future. It's something that we've never really had time to think about before but thinking about it now…there are just so many different possibilities for all of us. I guess being in Hogwarts kind of acted as a safety net for me, protecting me from real life, one in which we have to work and grow old. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet, but if I'm to be completely honest with myself, I don't know if I'll ever be."

"Well, you know I'll be with you, right," Harry asked her, as they stared at each other. "I would never leave you, no matter what."

"You can't say that, Harry…you don't know where your life is going to take you in the future," Hermione replied.

"Maybe not exactly, but I do know that you're going to be a part of it, whether you want to or not," he smiled.

She rolled her eyes at him in a mocking manner as she responded, "You're flattering, Harry."

After several minutes in which Harry and Hermione basked in a comfortable silence, he asked, "Do you want to go back?"

"Are you tired from all you're flying, Harry," Hermione joked.

"No, but I have some other things in mind," he retorted, making Hermione blush.

"And what did you have in mind exactly," she questioned.

Harry stood to his feet, grabbed his Firebolt, and held out his hand for Hermione to take.

"Why don't you come with me and find out?"

"It's a tempting offer, but I think I'll stay here for the night," Hermione said.

"What," Harry asked, his shoulders slumping forward, his night plans ruined. However, that was when he saw that Hermione's shoulders were shaking as her right hand was pressed tightly over her mouth.

"Harry, I was only joking," Hermione said with a wide smile on her face, once her laughter coursed through her and was under her control.

She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

"I'll remember that, you know," Harry said, "but right now, I want to do some other things." With that being said, Harry apparated them out of Hogwarts Castle, leaving behind its quiet grounds, going to Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow.

Once they arrived in the foyer of the small home cast in complete darkness, Hermione started to make her way up the steps, only for Harry to drop his Firebolt onto the floor and quickly follow behind her. Halfway up the staircase, she grabbed her from behind, making her gasp about, as he twirled her to face him.

Without waiting for a response, Harry leaned in and captured her lips with his. He squeezed her waist as she tangled her hands within his messy hair as they kissed each other like two ships in a collision. Harry tugged off Hermione's jeans jacket while she pulled off his light, gray one, as both clothing items were discarded upon the stairs.

Harry guided Hermione safely up to the second landing without his lips ever leaving hers, while they both got rid of their shoes and socks. Harry pulled back from Hermione for a moment as he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

Feeling an incredible and passionate urge, Harry pushed Hermione against a wall and started trailing kiss down her neck. She hummed loudly which made Harry increase his fervor, as he let his tongue slip down the length of her neck before he gently nipped her. She craned her head as Harry moved to the other side of her neck, bypassing his trail of kisses, skipping to the exploration with his tongue.

"Harry," Hermione breathed out.

He pulled away only to lead her into his bedroom where he shut the door behind them. They looked at each other for a heated moment, before Hermione suddenly had a look of determination in her eyes. Slowly, she pulled off her blouse as she let it float towards the floor while Harry undid the button of his jeans, pulled down its zipper, and cast it on top of her shirt.

Harry looked at Hermione's bra as he gulped loudly, while he felt the back of his neck burn as if the sun was beating down directly upon it.

Hermione moved closer to Harry before she suddenly stopped. With another steely look, Hermione repeated Harry's actions as she too tugged off her jeans.

Harry felt his eyes widen as he stared over at Hermione, the burn of his neck now masking that of his face.

"You look beautiful," he breathed out, stepping forward towards her, as he gulped loudly again.

Without answering him, Hermione leaned in slowly and brushed her lips against Harry's. Her quick tease had his head spinning around on his shoulders. He backed up before his legs hit his bed. He sat down on it as he continued to ogle over at Hermione before he gestured towards her.

She slowly walked over to him before she climbed on top of him, straddling his legs, as he held onto her hips. Her warm, brown eyes looked down at his fiery, green ones, before they leaned in and let their lips meet again.

With both of their eyes shut, and with a soft brush of the tips of their noses, Harry leaned back on his bed, while Hermione followed him so that she was lying completely on top of him. Harry thought to himself that he never wanted to move out of this position ever again. One of his hands moved up to cradle her head against his, while the other moved to caress her lower back.

Suddenly, Harry turned over so that he was on top of her, as they let their tongues explore each other's. They both moaned with pleasure as Hermione took Harry by surprise and turned on top of him again, before she broke their snog and skipped kisses down Harry's chest and onto his stomach, stopping just above his navel.

Hermione briefly looked down at Harry and smirked when she noticed Harry's male teenage tendencies were clearly apparent, his body reacting to her kisses. Harry, however, didn't feel embarrassed at all; instead, he wanted Hermione to know that his body reacted this way only to her…only for her.

Harry then sat up, and looked into Hermione's eyes. Slowly, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra, letting it shift down onto his bed. He stared down at it for a second before his eyes fell upon her exposed body.

Hermione looked slightly bashful at first, before Harry smiled at her, letting her know that he appreciated everything about her.

He then directed Hermione over so that her head fell upon his pillows. He planted kisses up her legs, stomach, chest, and neck, before he gently lay atop of Hermione, his tongue entangling with hers. She wrapped one leg around him as his hand moved over her cool skin.

As Harry pressed into her, Hermione whimpered out, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him against her in a tight embrace, while Harry moved to sucking different parts of her neck.

Her hands then roamed down Harry's sides, making him shudder in excitement and lust, while they continued to moan in their approval for one another.

Harry turned over again, so that his head was resting upon his pillows while Hermione was on top of him. As they returned to their kiss, Harry hands rested upon Hermione's waist before they slowly traveled down before reaching her bum. She gasped in surprise, while Harry used his advantage to once again slip his tongue against hers.

Harry reversed positions one final time, as he kicked his bed sheets onto the floor, where they teamed up with the pair's already abandoned clothing items.

The sounds of Harry and Hermione's kisses and sucking rang around the walls of Harry's room, as the couple did not find sleep until the early hours of the morning, when Harry climbed off of Hermione, not wanting to take things too far into the sphere of regret.

Nonetheless, Harry spooned up behind her, again letting her know how his body reacted to hers, while one of hands was wrapped around her waist, while his legs became entwined with her legs.

As Harry's eyes became heavy bags of sand and began to close on him, he promised to himself that a night will soon come where he didn't stop with Hermione, as they would dive off the end together, taking each other's innocence with no regret. It was then that Harry realized, in the pitch black hours of the morning, that he loved Hermione…he had for some time and will forever more.

* * *

Harry awoke as the sunshine bounced around his bedroom, with a large smile on his face. He opened his eyes to find Hermione's body still knotted with his. An idea suddenly formed in his head, as Harry slowly and carefully disentangled himself from her, trying not to wake her up. Not bothering put on any of his clothes, Harry grabbed his wand before he slipped out of his bedroom and made his way down the stairs of Potter's Cottage, avoiding his and Hermione's mess of garments that littered the second-floor landing and the staircase, the home a deathly silent as if even the ghosts had been barred from entering into it.

He dashed into the kitchen, trying to be quick on his feet before Hermione got the chance to wake up. He waved his wand around, to and fro, making ingredients and dishes zoom around him as he put together their breakfast.

After several minutes, after which Harry noticed that the time was just after ten in the morning, Harry pointed his wand at a tray laden with two dishes, one for him and the other for Hermione, as two slices of toast, fried eggs, smoked bacon, fried mushrooms, and grilled tomatoes filled both plates, along with two mugs of tea, with steam billowing from it.

As Harry walked through the living room, he stopped suddenly as he again noticed that the tall man was walking by Potter's Cottage, as he was dressed in Muggle-attire. The man was looking around, seeming to be searching for something that was apparently hidden in plain sight, yet it was evident that the man was unable to find what he was looking for…at least that's what Harry thought, as the man walked away, disappearing down the lane from Potter's Cottage.

Frowning, Harry managed to shake these thoughts from his head at the moment as he focused on levitating the food tray up the stairs and into his room, where, to his relief, Hermione still had not woken up from her slumber.

Smiling to himself, Harry set the tray of food upon his dresser, as he went over to his bed, leaned over Hermione, and softly placed a kiss on her lips.

"Fivemoremins," she said, jumbling her words together as she was still in the world of sleep, unwilling to awaken to reality just yet.

Again, Harry leaned over her and kissed her lips, making her moan softly, pulling the strings of his heart in triumph. When she didn't stir any further, Harry licked his lips before he leaned over once again and softly bit her neck.

He heard her gasp loudly before he slowly recoiled away from her, smiling down at her sleepy form.

"Harry," she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"G'morning," he replied back, grinning down at her.

"What time is it," she inquired.

"A little after ten in the morning," he answered.

"You're not dressed," she noted, seeing that Harry was still stripped down to his boxer shorts.

"Neither are you," Harry shot back playfully, nodding his head towards her.

Seeing where Harry's eyes had roamed to, Hermione quickly grabbed one of his pillows and held it up in front of her chest, her cheeks flashing a rosy red.

"Hermione, you don't have to be embarrassed," Harry told her.

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm just, well, maybe I am," she stammered.

"But why?"

"I know that you saw them last night, but it's not proper," she said, her voice a higher pitch than usual.

"It's not proper that I saw them," Harry asked, scratching the side of his head.

"No, I mean it's not proper that I'm still undressed so late in the morning!" With that, she dashed from his room, keeping his pillow pressed against her, and entered into hers, making Harry smile, seeing that her clothing garments were still strewn around his room, including her bra that was still lying on his bed.

Waiting just a few minutes, Harry pointed his wand at the breakfast tray and waved it forward, as Harry walked out of his room and knocked on the door of Hermione's.

"Are you finished in there Hermione," he asked.

A second later, the door opened where a flustered looking, yet fully dressed Hermione appeared. He saw that her eyes looked at the tray of food behind him before they journeyed down to his boxer shorts.

"Did you want me to change," he questioned.

"Um...only if, only if you want to," she stuttered.

"I'll be right back, but let's have breakfast in your room then," Harry said to her, waving his wand forward so that the platter of food floated softly over to her bed. He then dashed back into his room, threw on the first shirt he could find, while he struggled to tug on his pair of jeans. He then noticed that it was Hermione's jeans he was trying to fit onto his body, as he pulled them off and grabbed his jeans as he yanked them on and went back into her room.

He sat across from her with the tray of food between them, when Hermione suddenly noted, "Harry, your shirt is on backwards."

"What? Oh, yeah, um, let me fix that." He correct his shirt before he looked over at Hermione who was smiling at him, shaking her head mockingly.

"We're both a right mess this morning, aren't we," Hermione asked.

"I'd rather me a mess with you than anyone else though," Harry told her, as he indicated to her to start eating.

"Thank you for making this, Harry," she said after swallowing a bite of toast.

He shrugged his shoulders as he replied, "It was no problem and I owe you a couple of breakfasts anyway, if I remember correctly."

As they continued to munch away on their food Harry had prepared, he was lost in his own thoughts about the tall man that he had seen over the past week, walking by their home every morning. The man looked so familiar to Harry that he knew that he had seen him before. Suddenly, feeling as if a sack of bricks had slammed into him, Harry remembered: he had certainly seen the man before...at St. Mungo's hospital...he asked for the woman Harry had brought back from Australia...the ward was littered with black feathers.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is late but I fell a bit behind in my work! Chapter 20 is a work-in-progress and many things will be revealed in that chapter before the finale. It will be posted **Sunday night**. Thanks for reading.


	20. Parting of the White Fur

Chapter 20: Parting of the White Fur

"Harry, what is it," Hermione asked, noticing that Harry had frozen in place, with a fork of fried eggs halfway to his mouth.

"The man…I know who he is," Harry stated, setting down his fork upon his plate, and staring directly at Hermione, though he couldn't exactly see her for his eyes were clouded over from a mist that had obscured his vision.

"What man," Hermione asked, as she too repeated Harry's actions by setting her fork and knife down.

"Remember I told about a man that I'd seen over the past week from the living room window? He seemed to be looking for something but he could never find it," Harry said, his mind racing like a cheetah hunting down a gazelle on a safari plain, while Hermione nodded her head slowly, "I know who he is."

"Are you talking about that man we saw when we apparated here with Mr. Weasley from the Ministry of Magic," Hermione questioned, "the day we met Caleb?"

"Yeah, him," Harry answered her.

"So who is he?"

"I don't know his name but I've seen him before, in St. Mungo's. It was just after we came back from Australia, and you were recovering from your injuries. Ron, Ginny, and I went to The Burrow to have lunch, and when we came back so that we could visit you, he was in front of us at the welcome desk."

"Did he say anything to you," Hermione inquired.

Harry shook his head from side to side as he replied, "No, I don't even think he saw me behind him. He asked for the woman we fought in Australia, her name started with an 'S', I think, and he was gone."

"Is that all you know," Hermione asked, as she grabbed her wand and waved it, making her parchment of notes, a quill, and an ink bottle fly towards her. She moved aside her plate of food as she placed her parchment upon on the tray and quickly jotted down what Harry had told her.

"Um, no, there's something else," Harry started, making Hermione stop writing to look up at him. "In St. Mungo's, I was up on the fifth floor talking to Mr. Weasley and Kingsley before I started to make my way back down to you. I met Professor Lockhart near the lifts and he said that a raven was flying around on the fourth-floor ward. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when I went down to the fourth-floor, there were black feathers all over the ground."

"And you think that this man who you have seen over the past week is the same man that you saw in St. Mungo's," Hermione asked, as Harry nodded his head wordlessly at her, "and that he is related to this feather-incident too?"

"I'm positive he is, Hermione, I recognize him. He's tall and is always dressed in Muggle clothing," Harry responded. "If it's true, that these things are related, it has something to do with the superstition of the woman and the raven. How else could we explain the black feathers I saw on the ward?"

"I don't know, Harry, but I think you may be onto something," Hermione commented slowly, as her eyes darted back and forth, crisscrossing over her parchment of notes.

"Something doesn't make sense, though," Harry wondered aloud, causing Hermione to look over at him again.

"What is it," she asked.

"This man that I've seen over the past week, why hasn't he been able to see Potter's Cottage?"

"Don't you remember Harry, what Mr. Weasley told us? He put up wards over this house to prevent any witch or wizard from being able to see it. As it is already hidden from Muggles, Potter's Cottage is practically invisible to the human eye," Hermione reasoned.

Something about his home being inaccessible to nearly every person besides he and Hermione quelled a disquieting fear deep inside of Harry that had been unknowingly lurking within the confines of his bones. He felt safe, knowing that he and Hermione lived in a home that was undetectable to humans, even though animals could find its way there.

"Well, with this man added to my notes, there are a lot of things to go over," Hermione said, her eyes having since returned to her parchment. "I think we should go visit Caleb, I remember that he also had a lot of notes that he kept with him."

"Don't you want to finish your breakfast first," Harry asked, seeing that Hermione had made to unravel herself from her bed sheets.

She looked down at her half-eaten plate of food before she responded, "Yes, of course, we should probably finish up."

Harry nodded and picked up his fork of fried eggs as he and Hermione returned to the breakfast foods he had cooked for them earlier that morning.

As Harry chewed away on a piece of toast, his mind meandered back towards the events concerning he and Hermione that had taken place last night after they returned from Hogwarts.

"Hermione," Harry started, trying to gather all of his thoughts though he found out that he was unable to do so, "about what happened last night…you don't regret…I mean, you're okay with what we did?" After Harry asked his question, he wanted to fling himself against a brick wall for sounding so callous.

Hermione's cheeks turned pink before she stared down at her plate of food and responded, "Oh, um, well no I don't regret anything…do you?"

"No, no, not at all," Harry said back to her, feeling his face flush, as he scratched away at the top of his head. "We just, well, we went farther than we had gone before, and I…I just wanted to know that you were okay with it."

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," she said, nodding her head down at her plate, as it seemed as if she couldn't make herself to look directly at Harry.

"Well, that's good then," Harry remarked, nodding his head once in satisfaction. It was then that he noticed that the stuffed toys of the dog, mooncalf, and owl he had given her weeks ago, was still kept safe and sound on top of her dresser.

She looked up and followed his gaze and smiled at them. "I'm never going to give them away, you know."

"Why," Harry questioned, pulling his eyebrows together, "they're just toys."

"I know, but you gave them to me and I like them a lot," she replied, finally meeting his eyes. "It's silly, I know, but they're kind of precious to me."

"I could've given you all the other ones I had if they meant that much to you," Harry insisted, shrugging his shoulders.

"I didn't want the other ones," Hermione retorted, shaking her head from side to side, "I just wanted those."

Nodding his head in understanding, Harry and Hermione finished off their breakfast before Harry got up and said, "Here, I'll take this down to the kitchen and then we can get ready to go."

"Thanks, Harry, for making breakfast," Hermione said to him, "it was delicious."

Harry smiled down at her before he leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against her forehead.

"Thanks for sharing it with me," he whispered to her. He then waved his wand and levitated the tray of empty plates and mugs in front of him.

After he placed everything in the kitchen sink, Harry dashed back up the staircase before he entered into the loo, where he brushed his teeth. Going back into his bedroom some minutes later, he noticed that Hermione's clothes were still strewn around his room.

Smiling, he picked up her clothing items before walking over and knocking upon her closed door.

"Hermione," Harry called out, "can I come in?"

"Yes," he heard her reply, as he twisted the doorknob, and poking his head inside.

"What is it," she asked, looking over at him, as he had noticed that she had just finished changing.

"Well," Harry started, before he fully stepped into her room, "I found these in my room and I was thinking that you may want them back."

Hermione's eyes grew wide when she saw her garments in Harry's hand. Quickly grabbing her wand, she pointed it at her clothes and said, " _ACCIO_." Hermione's blouse, jeans, and bra pulled out of Harry's grasp as it flew over to her, where she snatched it and hastily stuffed it into one of the drawers of her dresser.

"Sorry that I left it there," she said quietly, her cheeks flooding with fire.

Harry grinned at her as he responded, "I'm not."

She quickly looked up at him, a surprise look on her face, to which Harry merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, it's true," he reiterated, before he stepped out of her bedroom, softly closing the door on his exit, while he went into his room and changed into a fresh pair of jeans and tugged on a navy shirt.

However, before he could turn around and depart from his room, his light gray sweatshirt, t-shirt, shoes, and socks, folded neatly together, all floated inside where they plopped down on top of his messy bed. A second later, his Firebolt followed suit.

Entertained, Harry stepped out of his room and saw that Hermione was standing feet away from him, her wand in her hand, and a grin on her face.

"I thought it would be best if I returned the favor," she said.

Laughing, Harry took several steps forward and wrapped his hands around her, pulling Hermione against him.

"You know, I didn't fold your clothes like you did mine," Harry commented, "so I kind of feel like you deserve something a bit more."

Noticing a sparkle in her eyes, Harry leaned down and locked his lips with hers. Pouring every solid inch of passion that he could muster, Harry felt light-headed when they pulled apart. He was gratified to see that Hermione looked little better than he felt.

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment before smiles appeared on both of their faces, until they started laughing. Hermione's carefree giggling sent winds of happiness coursing through Harry, rocking him between the pillars of joy and pleasure.

Considering how far Harry and Hermione had voyaged with each other the night before, with Harry seeing parts of the female body he had never laid eyes upon, there was an avenue of awkwardness and discomfort that could have settled between he and Hermione. The fact that Hermione seemed untroubled by the events they had both partook in, Harry couldn't express how at ease he felt because of it. He felt his feelings for Hermione expand to even greater heights, as he was sure that they would soon top the tallest peak of the highest mountain.

"Are you ready to go," Harry asked, still staring down at Hermione.

She nodded her head wordlessly at his question, before he grabbed her hand and said, "Come on, then," and the pair ventured down the staircase together, walking out the front door of Potter's Cottage, past the growing grass, and away from the front gate of the property.

They stepped onto the absent lane that would carry them directly into the heart of Godric's Hollow, as Harry released Hermione's hand, only to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his side. In turn, she wrapped one arm around his back, and placed her other hand on his stomach.

Something inside of Harry stirred from a relaxed slumber at her hand upon his stomach, as he registered that he was quite sensitive there.

The couple continued to walk on, as the morning sun gradually rose higher and higher into the cloudless sky. The air was still and calm, as the customary wind seemed to have scampered off to showcase its might and power over another town in West Country. Harry didn't mind though, as the day wasn't too warm for him to indulge in.

The pair walked past the cemetery that housed James and Lily, as Harry looked over at its wrought iron gates and the tombstones beyond with a stiff smile, before they strolled away from the small steeple, and war memorial.

Entering into the main part of Godric's Hollow, Harry and Hermione knew exactly where to go as they stealthily entered into the alleyway between the white-brick buildings of 'Talbert's Treasurers' and 'Corvus', making sure to step over the puddle of water that was gathered in its middle, as they then found themselves standing in front of the graffiti art of the woman and the raven.

Harry took out his wand, tapped it three times against the painting, and said in a quiet voice, "Potter, party of two."

Just like the times before, the woman nodded once at the couple, while the raven flew off of her shoulder and out of the picture. The woman then disappeared into nothingness as a doorway appeared into which Harry and Hermione crossed through.

They made their way down the staircase which eventually opened up into the Corvus Canteen. Harry looked around and saw only a handful of people scattered about, but it was who he saw in one corner that made him stop in his tracks.

"Hermione, Caleb is over there," Harry pointed out.

"What…where," she asked, scanning the tables.

"There," Harry replied, nodding off to one corner where Caleb sat alone.

"Oh, I didn't think he would be here. I thought we were going to have to visit him in his room but this is better. Let's go." With that, Hermione walked between the empty tables of the small eatery, with Harry hot on her heels, before they approached his table, which was topped with long pieces of parchment.

When they arrived closer, he looked up and gave them a small smile.

"Harry, Hermione," he started, "what're you doing here?"

"We actually came to see you," Hermione said, "we want to talk to you."

Hearing her words, Caleb's smile was wiped off his face for it grew weary, while his eyes grew wide. Harry didn't exactly understand why Caleb seemed so tense all of a sudden.

Hermione seemed to notice this as well, for she quickly added, "It's nothing bad…we just wanted to talk to you about Twrill's Center."

"Oh…um right," he started, "well, take a seat then," as he reorganized his pieces of parchment into a haphazard pile and set them on one side of the table, while Harry and Hermione sat down.

The instant they did so, Tabby the house-elf suddenly appeared and said, "Oh, Mister and Missus are back! What can Tabby get you today?"

Harry looked down at the bubbly house-elf, his eyes as round as tennis balls while his bat-like ears swung around on his head, as he said somewhat apologetically, "Uh, thanks, Tabby, but we already ate."

Tabby's form sagged into disappointment, before Harry included, "But if we need anything, we'll make sure to ask you."

Tabby nodded his head at Harry's words, his bat-like ears flapping around his head, before he turned his attention on Caleb.

"And how about you, Mister-,"

"Caleb, Tabby, you can call by my name," Caleb intervened on the house-elf's behalf rather quickly. "But, I'm fine, for now, thank you."

Tabby eyed Caleb curiously for half a second, before he once again nodded, and scuttled away from their table and out of sight.

"Caleb, are you alright," Hermione asked.

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine…why?"

"You seem like you haven't received a fair amount of sleep is all," Hermione answered.

Harry looked over at Caleb and saw that Hermione made a fair point: his hazel eyes were colored with a bit of red, while he now had bags hanging under his eyes. His light, brown hair seemed a tad messier than when Harry and Hermione had met him before, while his skin looked rather sickly.

However, Harry once again had that feeling well up deep inside of him that seemed as if he knew Caleb. Logically, it was rather impossible that he knew Caleb since Harry had only met him once before, but something about him seemed so…familiar, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on what was so proverbial about him.

"I'm fine," he repeated, "I can't say I'm too fond of sleep anyway."

"Are you sure," Hermione asked.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me. So what did you want to talk about?"

Hermione shot Harry a quick sideways glance before she started, "Well, Harry and I were talking last night and we wanted to know if you found out anything more about Twrill's Center. I've been keeping notes," she continued, pulling her note-filled parchment from her pocket, "which is pretty much everything you and Mr. Weasley told us when we first met."

Caleb took the parchment Hermione had offered him and scanned it over quickly, nodding his head at random places.

"Who is this tall man with Muggle clothing you wrote about," Caleb asked, staring over the parchment at Hermione.

"Harry has seen this man walking outside of Potter's Cottage for the past week," Hermione answered, "and he's seen him before at St. Mungo's."

Caleb turned his attention on Harry and questioned, "You don't know who he is?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head back and forth.

As he handed Hermione's notes back to her, he looked over at Harry and Hermione, then he quickly gazed around at the few other patrons in the Corvus Canteen with them, before he said in a low voice, "We need to keep our voices down around here when we talk about Twrill's Center."

"Do you think it's best to have this conversation in your room," Hermione asked quietly.

"No, the walls in Malvolia's Caravansay have ears," Caleb responded, with a shake of his head, "as does this whole village it seems like."

"You know of something, don't you," Harry intervened, as he was able to read Caleb's facial expressions and body language with ease.

"Oh, I found out some things, but it would probably be for the best if we don't let anyone else know what I've learned," he replied.

Harry nodded his head, indicating that he understood, yet he was suddenly riled with anticipation at what Caleb had unearthed about Twrill's Center.

Harry and Hermione waited in anticipation as Caleb dug through his stack of parchment, looking for one in particular. Once he found it, he extracted it from the pile and placed it in front of him.

Looking up at them, he started, "Well, the first thing I found out is that there are specialty wards placed over all of Twrill's Center that prevents witches and wizards from apparating directly inside of it, but it does not prevent them from apparating out of the village."

"I've never heard of something like that before," Hermione mused aloud, as Harry looked over and saw that she was deep in thought. "That's a very strange thing to do."

"Maybe it is and maybe it isn't," Caleb retorted.

"What do you mean," Harry asked.

"Well these specialty wards had only been erected over Twrill's Center a couple of months ago, sometime in April, I think," Caleb replied.

"How do you know of this," Harry asked, his interest increasing with every word Caleb spoke to them, wondering how he was able to find out this information.

"From the innkeeper of Malvolia's Caravansary," he stated simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Remember what Mr. Weasley told us before, about how Twrill's Center became active some time back in the 1970s, after it had been abandoned?" As Harry and Hermione nodded their heads, Caleb continued, "Well, Malvolia's Caravansary was one of the first places in Twrill's Center to be built, and the innkeeper, she never told me her name, has been around for a long time."

"And she just willingly answered all of your questions that you asked her," Harry inquired, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Yeah," Caleb said back, "in fact, she seemed quite eager to do so."

"So, then, I guess the real question is why were these specialty awards placed over Twrill's Center recently," Hermione said, looking at Caleb, before she directed her attention at Harry.

"Dunno," Harry and Caleb said at the same time. At this, they gave each other a look, in which Harry noticed a subtle gleam in Caleb's eyes.

"Hang on," Harry started a moment later, "you said that Malvolia's Caravansary was one of the first places in Twrill's Center to be built, right?"

Caleb nodded his head.

"So it was one of the first places to be built back in the 1970s when people started to come back to Twrill's Center," Harry asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Caleb replied, unsure of where Harry was going with his line of questions.

"Well, what was in Twrill's Center before, then," Harry inquired.

"From what the innkeeper told me, a collection of small cottages. I believe Mr. Weasley told you of that superstition with the woman and the raven?" Harry and Hermione nodded their heads again. "Well, there were supposedly ten cottages, one for each of the children, and one cottage for the man and woman. They were all destroyed in the early days of Twrill's Center, but it's said that one of the cottages still remains."

"Really…where," Hermione asked.

"I'm not exactly sure," Caleb responded. "You know the woods beyond the Phosphenes mansion? Apparently, one of the waterways that runs through the forest leads you to the last cottage."

"Has no one gone looking for it," Hermione asked.

"I'm sure some people have, but when you think about it, what's there to really see? Other people don't even believe in the myth of the woman and the raven and deny that any cottages ever existed."

"What do you believe," Harry asked.

Caleb shrugged as he answered, "Part of me thinks that there is some truth to the woman and the raven superstition, while another part of me believes that it is all just a bunch of rubbish. But I think there's a way to find out what is real and what's not."

"How," Harry questioned.

"This leads to something else I found out: in less than a week's time, another meeting is set to take place in the Phosphenes mansion."

"The meeting that takes place every other month," Harry said.

"They very same," Caleb noted, nodding his head.

"Let me guess, the innkeeper told you," Harry surmised, somewhat coldly.

At this, Caleb's cheeks flushed, as he looked down at the table, cutting off his line of vision he held with Harry and Hermione, as he said quietly, "Well…yeah."

Harry looked over at Hermione and was surprised to see her giving him a pointed look that read, 'Did you have to ask him so insensitively?'

"Look, Caleb," Harry started, making Caleb look up at him, "I didn't mean to ask it like that. It just seems like the innkeeper is telling you a lot of things. You just have to be careful. I don't know who we can trust around here."

Harry wasn't sure why he said that last part for Caleb to be careful; it had just flowed out of him.

"No, I understand," Caleb replied, nodding his head as his flush slowly evaporated, "but Mr. Weasley wanted to know as much about Twrill's Center as possible. He would be investigating this place himself but he's still trying to catch rogue Death Eaters and all."

"So did you find anything else out about the meeting," Hermione continued on.

"It takes place at nine o'clock at night in the Phosphenes mansion itself," Caleb answered her.

"Does it matter who attends the meeting," Hermione asked.

"I'm sure it does, but I don't think many witches and wizards know of it in the first place. With the war having just ended, I don't think the Ministry of Magic is focused on Twrill's Center, especially since many ministry employees probably have no idea what Twrill's Center even is," Caleb remarked.

"But the Ministry of Magic must know," Hermione reasoned.

"Well, let's think about it, Hermione," Harry started, causing both Hermione and Caleb to look at him. "Before the final war, Voldemort had complete control of the Ministry of Magic. I don't think many people would have spared another thought for Twrill's Center even if they knew about it."

"I guess that makes sense," Hermione stated slowly, "but there must be some record in the Ministry of Magic about Twrill's Center."

"There probably is, but why would anyone give it a second glance," Harry countered, "it's not as if this place has a lot of activity going on in it."

"But what about the myth of the woman and the raven," Hermione asked.

"It's like Caleb said: there are probably many people who don't even believe in it," Harry finished.

"He's right," Caleb added. "Mr. Weasley didn't even know of Twrill's Center until I visited him and told him about it."

"When did you visit him," Harry asked.

"Several weeks ago," Caleb replied.

"Caleb," Hermione started, giving him a questioning look, "do you mind if I ask how old you are?"

"I turned seventeen in January," he stated. However, Harry saw this bright, hazel eyes cloud over with uncertainty, not knowing in what direction Hermione was headed in.

"So, shouldn't you have been in school a couple of weeks ago," Hermione asked.

At this, Caleb hesitated, before he gave her a mild-mannered shrug.

"Are you from around here," Harry asked, noticing that he didn't answer Hermione's question.

"Sort of," Caleb said, though Harry could tell he was growing distinctly uncomfortable with the way the conversation had unfolded against him.

"I don't understand," Harry replied, "how can you be 'sort of' from around here?"

"Listen, there are things about me that I can't explain to you two, at least not yet. It's complicated and I just…I just can't tell you everything," Caleb told the couple. "I know it sounds strange but that's just the way it is for now."

"What can't you tell us," Hermione questioned.

"My personal life, my past, where I come from…pretty much everything," Caleb responded.

"I don't mean to sound rude or anything but how can Hermione and I trust you," Harry asked.

"You referring to the war, aren't you," Caleb inquired, to which Harry nodded his head. Caleb gave a loud sighh as he continued, "You can trust me when I say that I don't have any reason to lie to either of you. But I can't really say anymore than that. If it's any consolation, Mr. Weasley trusts me, and I believe you're on good terms with him."

"Will we ever be able to find out about you," Hermione asked.

"I think so, but now is just not the time," Caleb stated.

Harry regarded Caleb as he spoke, scrutinizing him…studying him, trying to make sense of this teenager sitting before him and Hermione. Caleb was like an intricate maze of questions and answers, one spring-boarding into another, yet Caleb was unable to provide Harry and Hermione with little truth because of a reason he couldn't say. Harry didn't feel as if Caleb was lying to him, as he thought Caleb really couldn't tell Harry and Hermione about his personal life, but the fundamental question was why?

Harry knew that Mr. Weasley knew of Caleb's secret, as he didn't forget the look the two of them shared with each other upon his and Hermione's first meeting with the teen.

"I trust you, Caleb," Hermione suddenly said, making Harry jump out of his thoughts.

"I do too," Harry added after another minute.

Caleb looked at them both with a sad smile, but he nonetheless replied, "Thanks…um, t-that means a lot."

"So do you have any more information on the meeting," Hermione asked.

"Um, no, I told you everything I could find out about it."

Hermione nodded her head in understanding before she said, "I think we should go to it."

At this, Harry and Caleb fell silent as they both stared at her, Caleb with a knowing look upon his face, while Harry's mouth had dropped open.

"H-Hermione, you can't be serious-," Harry started to say but he was cut off by Caleb.

"I was thinking the same thing."

Harry whipped his head over to look at Caleb in disbelief. It was clear that the battle was already over before it had even begun for Harry.

"It's too dangerous, Hermione," Harry said, making her turn to look at him.

"Harry, everything about this is dangerous. But remember what I told you last night? The sooner we find out what this meeting is about, the sooner we can get answers. We need to find out the truth about Twrill's Center," Hermione replied with finality.

"Well, how about if Caleb and I go," Harry requested.

Before Caleb could reply, Hermione intervened and said, "Harry, no way! There is absolutely no chance that I'm not going with you two!"

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed with Hermione's stubbornness with how prepared she seemed to be to throw herself headfirst into danger. Even though Harry had no idea what the meeting was about, it gave off an aura of a menacing interloper, plotting a murder in the dead of night.

"Harry, this is the only way we can figure everything out. We need to go to the meeting, all of us," Hermione said to him, looking straight into his eyes.

"I know but," Harry stopped and sighed loudly, "I just don't like the fact that we're putting ourselves at risk. I want to keep you safe, Hermione; you know that, I've told you so many times already. I don't want you hurt."

"I can't say that we'll be fine but I don't see a reason why the meeting would break out into a fight," Caleb suggested, making Harry and Hermione turn away from each other to look at him. "I mean, I agree that there's something going on with Twrill's Center, but maybe you and Hermione have nothing to do with it. If this meeting is about a plan of something more devious, then we can tell Mr. Weasley and let the Ministry of Magic take care of it."

"You're not going to tell Mr. Weasley about going to the meeting, are you," Harry asked him.

"No, he would say to me what you're saying to Hermione, to not to go…it would be too dangerous," Caleb said. "There's no doubt that going to this meeting is dangerous but Hermione's right, we have to find out the secrets of Twrill's Center. This may be our only option to do so."

"Can't you ask the innkeeper," Harry said, trying to reel in a last ounce of hope to save Hermione from any potential awaiting peril.

At this, Caleb laughed humorlessly before saying, "This was the one thing she wouldn't tell me. How convenient, huh?"

Silence fell over the trio, as Harry thought of a suggestion.

"If we go to the meeting, we have to disguise ourselves, just in case. Especially if this man that I've been seeing over the past week is there. I have a feeling he's looking for me," Harry said quietly.

Hermione replied, "You're right, Harry, we have to disguise ourselves when we go to the meeting."

"Should we use Polyjuice Potion," Harry questioned.

"No," Hermione said, "remember that it takes a month to brew. I could perform some simple human transfiguration though."

"Human transfiguration," Caleb repeated.

Hermione nodded her head. "Yeah, it would be easy to change our appearance and we wouldn't have to worry about time, like if we were to use the Polyjuice Potion."

"Caleb, do you know exactly when the meeting is going to take place," Harry asked.

He pulled out another piece of parchment and consulted it before he said, "The innkeeper said that the meeting takes place on the first Wednesday of every other month. So it'll be in four days."

Harry nodded his head in understanding before he asked, "And you two are sure you want to do this?"

"If it's to find out the mystery of Twrill's Center, then yes," Caleb answered.

Harry looked over at Hermione with questioning eyes.

"I'm positive, Harry. I think this is the right thing to do," she said softly.

"How about you two come to my room in Malvolia's Caravansary Wednesday night, and we'll go to the meeting together," Caleb offered, "we can also go over some things before we go."

"That sounds good," Hermione replied, nodding her head.

"Me too," Harry added.

"Great, so it's settled then. I'll see the two of you on Wednesday."

* * *

The next several days passed by in a blur, so much so that they blended together for Harry. He knew that Hermione was worrying over him about the meeting, and she was quite right. A tiny whisper inside of Harry told him that going to the meeting was not a good idea, but how could he convince Hermione and Caleb of that? There was no plausible way to do so, and it was with a heavy heart in which Harry carried himself the days leading up to the meeting the trio was to infiltrate.

There certainly was something amiss regarding Twrill's Center and Harry understood that by going to the meeting, mysteries could be unraveled before them. But what if it lead to something more…something deeper than the trio had anticipated…something darker, more sinister. Harry's stomach overturned like a capsized boat whenever he thought about the meeting; he couldn't help himself. Harry thought about trying to talk Hermione out of attending the meeting, not to keep her excluded, but to keep her away from harm, but he rendered those unfulfilled conversations useless; she was too stubborn to convince otherwise.

The night before the meeting was set to take place, Harry and Hermione got ready for bed. As this feeling of uncertainty regarding the meeting had only grown over the past couple of days, transforming from a small seed into a towering oak tree, Harry went over to Hermione's room.

He saw her tucking herself into bed before she looked over at the door and saw him standing there, watching her.

"Harry, what's wrong," Hermione asked suddenly, as apparently Harry's face was screwed up just as much as how he felt his heart was contorted.

He sighed as he walked over to her bed and sat down upon it, looking directly at her.

"You're still worried about the meeting," she guessed correctly, nodding her head slightly.

"Hermione, I just…I have a bad feeling about this. I can't say why, but I don't think we're going to like what we hear there."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't feel good about this either but we've wanted to know about Twrill's Center ever since we heard about it. This is our chance to finally learn more about it," she replied.

"How do you think Caleb feels about it," Harry asked.

"I'd imagine he's probably just as nervous as we are, don't you think?"

"Nervous, or perhaps excited," Harry replied.

"Excited? Why would you think that," Hermione questioned.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he responded, "It's just this feeling that I get with him, especially when we were talking about everything with him a couple of days ago. To me, he doesn't seem nervous at all."

Hermione was silent for a moment before she said, "Harry, I know we talked about this before, but for some reason, it feels like I know him…Caleb, I mean."

"Yeah, there's something definitely familiar about him," Harry agreed, nodding his head. "I kinda feel protective of him, in a way. It seems strange, I know-,"

"I know what you mean," Hermione cut him off, "because I feel that way too. But there is something odd about him."

"Like what," Harry inquired.

"Well, for one, he won't tell us anything about his personal life, like where he's from, who his family is, what school he went to," Hermione answered, her brow pulled together, as if she was scrutinizing what he did not say to them. "He's only seventeen, which is a little younger than us, which means he should've finished school this year; that is if he even went to school. Also, he's hiding something about himself, something that Mr. Weasley knows but didn't tell us."

Harry nodded his head before he added, "Don't you think it's unusual how much the innkeeper told him about Twrill's Center?"

"Yes, I was thinking about that as well," Hermione remarked.

"You don't think it could be a trap, how much information the innkeeper told him?"

"It could be," Hermione reasoned, "but I don't know why the innkeeper would lie to him. Don't you remember, Caleb told Mr. Weasley that the innkeeper found out about his 'condition'."

"Yeah, I guess you're right, as always," Harry said good-naturedly, attempting to lighten the mood that had settled between them.

His comment made Hermione smile before she said, "I'm not always right, Harry."

"No, but you are most of the time. It's what I like about you."

Hermione's smile faltered slightly as she asked, "Is that the only thing you like about me?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he told her, "No, there are other things here and there."

Hermione started laughing, which made Harry give her a wide grin. He then leaned down and placed a kiss against her lips. She kissed him back, their lips moving against one another in one rhythm and one heartbeat. Her kiss raced through Harry's body, electrifying him of wonder and admiration of her.

After several long moments, they pulled away from each other slowly, Harry letting his lips linger over hers for longer than necessary, as he felt a mounting discomfort with the space they had created between them, pushing them apart.

"Good night, Harry," Hermione said to him softly.

"Good night, Hermione," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

He traveled back into his room. He shut off the lights and crept into his bed, maneuvering himself to lie under his bed sheets, and closed his eyes. As his head rested against one of his pillows, the meeting once again plagued his mind, like a swarm of locusts feasting on the fresh crop of the season. He felt his head being raided of unwelcome thoughts and feelings, harvesting black seeds down in the pits of his mind, for it to grow and morph into withering entanglements of weeds paired together with sharp thorns to pierce the peacefulness he built and shared with Hermione since their return from Australia. As the restless night took hold of him, Harry knew that something evil was prowling just beyond the horizon.

* * *

The following day passed by in a flash, as Harry woke up, blinked his eyes a couple of times, and then he saw that the sky had dimmed, signaling the arrival of the night. Harry had hoped that time would grace them by taking its time over the day, but instead, it deceived Harry by quickly forfeiting to the hours of darkness.

"Are you ready to go, Harry," Hermione asked from the door of his room.

He looked back at her and saw the apprehensiveness in her eyes; he knew that he fared little better, if better at all.

"I guess," Harry said, walking over to her.

They stared at each other for a long minute, Harry trying to silently convey to her that he wanted her to stay, for her to be kept safe from harm, but he knew that he would be wasting his own breath if he told here these words; she wouldn't even consider them.

"Let's go," he finally remarked, grabbing hold of her hand and walking down the steps of Potter's Cottage and out into the cool, night air.

Harry took in a deep breath once he and Hermione had stepped out onto the lane and started to make their way to Twrill's Center. He was barely aware of how hard he was squeezing Hermione's hand until she squeezed his hand back.

"Sorry," he muttered over to her.

"Harry, you need to relax. I'm sure the three of us will be perfectly safe at the meeting," Hermione said, trying to console Harry.

He didn't respond to her but he nodded his head in answer, indicating that he heard her.

The trees swayed softly in the wind, rustling about, while scattered leaves blew around the street in front of the couple. Street lamps lit up the empty lane, guiding their way, while the stars twinkled above them. The air was warm but Harry paid it no attention, as his feet kept walking forward across the pavement on their own accord. He knew that Hermione was beside him but it almost seemed as if they were on two completely separate islands, an ocean separating one from the other, unable to find a vessel that would bring them together.

Of all the times Harry had walked with Hermione to the center of Godric's Hollow, on this night it seemed to take them little to no time to reach their destination. They maneuvered between the two white-brick buildings of 'Talbert's Treasurers' and 'Corvus' before they stopped in front of the painting of the woman and the raven.

After rapping three times against the picture with his wand, Harry and Hermione were granted access into Twrill's Center, as they made their way down the staircase of the Corvus Canteen, and saw that the eatery was completely empty.

Harry looked over at Hermione and could see that her level of nervousness spiked at this eerie sight, as the pair didn't even say Tabby anywhere in the small diner.

"Let's go," Harry said after a moment, pulling Hermione along with him until they exited out through a red door, walked up another stairwell, and entered the main area of the hidden magical community.

At once, Harry noticed that the lights of Twrill's Center were dim while the Phosphenes mansion was lit up, lights dancing behind the large windows of the handsome manor, as he noticed several people were walking into it. However, the rest of the village was under a silent calm, as still as death, as there was no other movement about. Harry's eyes fell upon the stone bridge that was situated over the calm waterway, connecting one side of Twrill's Center to the other, as his gaze then fell upon two other bridges further down the way that were attached to the slab of rock the mansion sat upon, joining the manor with the two sides of stores of Twrill's Center.

Harry felt a tug on his hand and looked down to see Hermione pulling him away from the mansion and towards Malvolia's Caravansary, where they had planned to meet up with Caleb.

After they made their way into the inn, and up the stairs, they knocked softly upon room 415. The door opened an inch, as Harry could barely make out Caleb's sparkling hazel eyes peering out at them. Once he saw who his visitors were, he opened the door more widely for Harry and Hermione to step through.

Following their entrance, Caleb shut the door behind them as he said, "Are you two ready?"

"Well, we have transfigure ourselves first, but other than that, we're fine," Hermione answered. "How about you?"

"Yeah, yeah, for the most part. There's really not much to plan when you don't know what to expect," Caleb replied back.

Harry looked over at the teenager and saw that his light, short brown hair was messier than ever, while it seemed as if he didn't receive any sleep from the previous night.

"So should we just transfigure ourselves," Caleb asked, "I can't say that I'm really good at it."

"Here, I'll do it for all of us," Hermione said, taking hold of her wand and walking up to Caleb.

"Nothing too drastic, okay," he said with a hint of nervousness, "and do you mind not changing the eyes?"

"Why not," Hermione asked.

"I kind of like them the way they are," Caleb responded, "it's like they remind me of who I really am."

Harry thought that this was a strange thing to say yet he didn't comment on the matter, as his anxiousness was surging by the second.

Hermione got to work on Caleb as she pointed her want at his hair first. Its normal messy state instantly changed into a handsome come-over, while it turned a dirty blond. His face then sported a small flock of freckles, while his chin grew a short goatee.

"How does he look, Harry," Hermione asked.

Harry stepped closer to the newly transfigured Caleb and said, "Definitely not like himself. The hair certainly changes everything."

"Oh, one last thing," Hermione said, as she waved her wand and conjured a pair of round spectacles and gave them to Caleb. "I didn't change your eyes like you asked but the glasses will give you another level of disguise."

"Thanks," he said to her, placing the glasses on his face.

"Wait, I need to change your clothes." Hermione then twirled her wand in the air as Caleb's t-shirt and jeans morphed into black wizard dress robes.

"Are you sure this is what is worn to the meeting," Caleb asked, looking down at himself.

"Yeah, we saw some people walking into the mansion before we came up here," Harry told him, to which Caleb nodded his head in answer.

"Okay, Harry, your turn now," she said. The first thing Hermione did was that she conjured a new set of glasses for Harry to wear, only this new pair was not round, but instead, sharp squares. He then felt his hair touch his shoulders before a small wind encircled him, as he looked down and saw that Hermione transfigured his clothes, equal to that of Caleb's.

"How do I look," Harry asked Caleb, while Hermione got to work on herself.

"Not like yourself either…you look, well, you look old," Caleb replied.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, you hair has a lot of gray in it, as well as your mustache, and you have some wrinkles around your eyes," Caleb responded, carefully surveying Harry. "Oh, and your eyes are different too! They look like an off-blue color or something like that."

"I don't look like Harry Potter, do I?"

"Absolutely not," Caleb answered.

They both then turned around saw a woman standing before them, her black hair twisted in a tight bun behind her head, her lips a shining red, her eyes an electric green, while a set of dark velvet witches' robes dawned her frame.

"How do I look," asked the voice of Hermione.

"Exactly the same as you usually would, Hermione," Caleb said.

"What? I'm supposed to look different!"

Caleb then started laughing as he sputtered out, "I'm joking, I'm joking, you look very different…you're fine."

Harry looked over at Caleb's laughing form and wondered how he could be making jokes while Harry seemed to be on the edge of oblivion.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Did you find anything else about the meeting? Anything you think we should know before we go?"

"Well, the innkeeper did say that the man that conducts the meeting, Rainer Tallis is his name, stays in Phosphenes for three days, until his disappears until the next one," Caleb said.

"Where is the innkeeper now," Harry asked.

"She locks herself in her room the nights of the meetings and doesn't come out until the following morning. She's terrified of them," Caleb replied, "and wants nothing to do with it."

"If the innkeeper knows so much about these meetings, why hasn't she done anything about it? Why hasn't she contacted the Ministry of Magic," Harry questioned, noticing this major flaw he had overlooked before.

"I don't know," Caleb answered, shrugging his shoulders, "to be honest, I never asked her that myself."

"Well, maybe we can ask her later, but right now, we should go or else we're going to be late," Hermione said.

The trio then exited room 415 and made their way down the steps of the empty inn before they came out upon the main area of Twrill's Center.

Instantly, they noticed more people had gathered in this magical community of West Country, as they were all making their way towards Phosphenes.

Hermione was walking in between Harry and Caleb, when Caleb suddenly whispered over to them, "Are you guys as tense as I am?"

"Yes, but just try to relax," Hermione said, not looking at him, "we can't go in there and seem like were on edge; we would instantly give ourselves away."

"I know but I can't help it," Caleb replied quietly, minding the fact that there was a pair of wizards just in front of them.

Harry couldn't really give any sage advice for he found himself to be in the same boat as Caleb.

"Look, just remain calm. Remember what you said to us a couple of days ago: that the meeting shouldn't break out in a fight? All we're doing is listening in on what is being said," Hermione told him. "Harry and I will be right by your side."

As the trio walked closer and closer to the mansion, a slight chill frosted the air unexpectedly. A wind then overcame the village and blew over them, sending small shivers pursuing through Harry. A low rumble of thunder was heard off in the distance as Harry looked up at the sky only to see that the stars had disappeared as it seemed as if someone had completely erased them from the dark expanse from up above.

Footsteps of the participants of the meeting echoed off of the brick walls of the stores of Twrill's Center, the sound lapsing back into Harry's ears like the beats of a drum, signaling for an executioner to approach the awaiting guillotine.

Under another wind that blew against the back of his neck, Harry felt as if someone was walking directly behind him, breathing down upon him, stalking his every movement.

It was then that he felt it: a pair of eyes was watching him, Hermione, and Caleb. He tried to look around casually, as to not to draw attention. He scanned the area ahead of him and only saw small gatherings of witches and wizards entering into the mansion. He looked behind him, but didn't see any living soul. He looked to his right, beyond the heads of Hermione and Caleb, and again saw nothing. He then looked to his left and nearly stopped walking. His breath hitched in his throat, as another rumble of thunder growled down upon them. Across the waterway, the tall man that Harry had repeatedly seen just beyond the perimeter of Potter's Cottage over past weeks, stood, dressed in Muggle attire, his cold eyes locked on Harry.

Harry looked away quickly, trying to focus his eyes on his destination in front of him, yet a sharp claw was digging its way into him, revealing the terror he now felt flood his entire system, the levies being obliterated under so much pressure. His heart rate quickened, as beads of sweat started to gather at his graying hairline, even though the air had turned cool.

Harry wanted nothing more than to take hold of Hermione and Caleb and apparate them out of the village and to safety, yet he knew that he could not do so, not with the tall man staring him down. Harry gulped loudly and chanced another glance across the waterway only to find that the man had disappeared, but where to, Harry did not know.

As the trio crossed the stone bridge, Harry looked over the heads of Hermione and Caleb again and into the pitch black woods that stood behind Phosphenes, the waterway disappearing into it. Harry guessed that they were the last ones to enter the manor as he saw no one behind them, including the tall man, when he looked back over his shoulder for the final time.

After crossing the bridge, they stepped onto a concrete walkway, flanked by a small row of green hedges, which led them towards a circular staircase. Harry, Hermione, and Caleb walked up the stairs before they came upon a wide landing, the windows the mansion on their right, and a banister that looked out upon the stores of Twrill's Center and its main waterway on their left. Up ahead, double doors were left wide open, looking like a mouth ready to swallow the three of them whole.

Without hesitation, Harry, Hermione, and Caleb stepped into Phosphenes, hearing the doors close behind them, locking them inside.

The first thing that Harry noticed upon entering the mansion was that there was white fur lying on the purple rug they stood on. As his mind drifted back to a dream he had a week ago where he saw white fur as well, they stepped off of the rug and onto the smooth, tiled floor.

 _CLACK…CLACK…CLACK_.

Their shoes shot off echoes down the hall they were walking through, paintings of exotic-looking animals situated on the walls at their sides. They then passed through an open set of double doors where Harry guessed the meeting was set to take place, for there were about fifty people gathered around three sides of a gargantuan, polished brown, rectangular table, set in the middle of a large hall, the fourth side of the table left bare. The three of them positioned themselves at the table between two bronze-skinned wizards, as Harry noticed that one of them had a small silver hoop embedded in the skin directly above his eye.

Harry looked around the windowless room, noticing that golden candle brackets floated eerily in midair, it being the only source of light. Tall columns were situated in intervals around the hall, towering up towards the ceiling, holding it in place.

It seemed as if the meeting had not started yet, as silence had pressed itself down upon the meeting's occupants, suppressing nothing more than a whisper about.

Harry looked over at Hermione and saw that her skin was a ghostly pale as she seemed to be trembling, while Caleb seemed to be breathing rather unevenly, his chest rising and falling at odd intervals.

Suddenly, a door that Harry hadn't noticed before opened at the far end of the large room. A shadowy figure emerged from it, with something perched on it shoulders.

"Welcome, my friends, welcome," the deep voice belonging to the figure said slowly, discharging a fear into Harry that eclipsed his heart.

The figure walked up to the unoccupied fourth side of the table, standing under a hanging candelabrum. Harry took in his appearance as the man was quite tall, dressed in a black suit and black bow tie. He had a mix of jet black and gray hair that was trimmed into a handsome style, while his skin gave off a tan-like appearance. His eyes, however, had a strange nature about them as they were of a bright yellow color, critical and void of all emotion. His mouth was set in a firm line, while a black raven rested on his right shoulder. Harry thought that this man must be Rainer Tallis, the ringleader of the meetings.

"Since our last meeting together, I must inform you all that things have changed," Rainer said in a deep voice that reverberated around the hall, "many things, in fact. As you all know, I attempted to transform the time-turner I stole from the Time Room back when I was an Unspeakable weeks before the Battle of the Department of Mysteries took place. I am pleased to say that my transformation of the time-turner was successful."

Harry thought that although Rainer said he was pleased about this time-turner transformation, his face looked anything but.

"So, then, if it worked, it's true that you can now see into the future," a woman asked.

At this, alarms starting ringing around on the inside of Harry's head: time-turner…transformation…future?

Rainer was silent for a moment, his face resembling that of a stone gargoyle, while the tips of his long, spider-like fingers rested upon the polished table before him.

"It is true…I can now see into the future," Rainer said, to which a low choir of whispers was heard at this piece of news. "But, my time in the future is relatively short, as time will only allow me a mere minute of foresight. Therefore, I can only see mere glimpses of the future, as I am also unable to interact with anyone in that era."

"Mr. Tallis, I don't understand how you could transform a time-turner to make you see the future," one man around the table asked, confusion etched into his facial features. "I believe the point of a time-turner is to go backward in time, not forward. How did you alter it for you to see the future?"

At this, Rainer's face broke out into a smile, but to Harry, his smile was one of twisted cruelty, as if he planned to pierce his own cartilage with a chip of an enemy's bone.

"I have my ways," Rainer finally said, looking over at the raven still perched upon his shoulder, "but it is not something I wish to discuss at this time."

A hush fell over the meeting's participants at his words, while Harry could hear Hermione's quickened breaths next to him.

"Understand this, all of you," Rainer started in a quiet voice, "knowing the future is invaluable. Think of everything anyone could achieve if he or she knew of the future. I have seen my own future but it is a future that I am weary of. As you all know, I plan to vie for power in the future, namely of that with the Ministry of Magic under my control. Yet seeing into my future, one person plans to stop me, and unfortunately, that person is to be successful."

"Who is it?"

"Is it someone we know?"

"Who did you see?"

These questions plagued Rainer from three sides of the table by its occupants, while Harry, Hermione, and Caleb remained silent.

"I'm positive you all know of this person if you keep up with the Daily Prophet," Rainer started evilly. "Part of the Golden Trio, one Hermione Granger stands in my way."

Harry froze; he couldn't find it in himself to move. He wanted to take Hermione and Caleb and run, to take off beyond the horizon and never return. However, Rainer continued onward, his yellow eyes flashing around at all of them.

"I saw of this shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts. I went forward in time and saw that Hermione Granger is to become the Minister of Magic in the future, with my body strewn at her feet. It is with fate that she ends my bloodline and I am no more. She obtains the position of the Minister while I am forgotten, a mere speck of dirt on her robes. Knowing this, I plan to alter the course of our destinies…of mine and of hers."

"How are you going to do that, Mr. Tallis," another woman asked.

"Hermione Granger's murder. I am going to end her before she can even get started."

Harry felt his heart stop beating, as sweat raced down the back of his neck. He grabbed Hermione's hand discreetly and squeezed it, yet he was horrified when she did not squeeze back. He couldn't comfort her, not here and not now, unless he was to give their positions away. Of all the possibilities that Harry contemplated in his head about what this meeting was about, nothing was anywhere near the truth of it.

"However, Hermione Granger has since evaded my calls to her. For one, I had her parents impersonated by two of our own down in Brisbane, Australia, but the fools failed me. They are now both dead, along with her worthless parents."

"Why Australia," a man questioned.

"She and her friend, The Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, were discussing retrieving her parents from the country in The Raven Café in Diagon Alley. For those of you who do not know, The Raven Café has a twin eatery, and that eatery lies here, in Twrill's Center, called The Corvus Canteen. My accomplice," Rainer said, again looking over at the raven still perched on his right shoulder, "heard of their plans and tried to inform me of it but I was away. In the end, the two escaped from Australia.

"However, hope was not lost on me for The Daily Prophet reported that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger had returned from Australia and were raising a family of their own in Godric's Hollow. I knew of Potter's Cottage but for some reason, that home has been lost in its own existence…I cannot find it now. I assume wards have been placed over the home following Harry Potter and Hermione Granger being attacked in Australia but of that, I am not certain. At that point, all hope seemed to disappear into thin air, right before my very eyes.

"That is until I thought of her companion: Harry Potter. The Daily Prophet always spun a tale of how loyal Hermione Granger was to one Harry Potter. I then changed tactics, as I tried to coax Harry out of his hole he'd been hiding within that of Potter's Cottage, by killing first the guards that protected his family, a wizard by the name of Dedalus Diggle, and a witch named Hestia Jones, and then I murdered his last living relatives. Potter has yet to show his face; therefore, Granger has not done so either."

"What do you plan to do now," a man inquired.

"I'll wait for the time being. I'll see if either one of them chooses to honor my future and show themselves, namely Granger, before I leave in three days. If not, I'll have another strategy ready before out next meeting together, but I promise that I don't care how many people I have to slay before I reach Granger, and when I finally meet her, I will murder her without prejudice."

"We shall help you, Mr. Tallis, all of us will help you in finding Hermione Granger," another man said, squaring his shoulders and locking his jaw.

"I know you will help me, and for that, I am grateful to everyone in this room. This, however, concludes our meeting for tonight. Go home, all of you," Rainer said, before he turned his bright, yellow eyes and trained them directly on Harry, "until we meet again."

* * *

Mere minutes later, which seemed to stretch past hours to Harry, he, Hermione, and Caleb had walked back to Malvolia's Caravansary in silence, having no words of which to speak to each other after they had all found heard what was discussed at the meeting.

"Hermione, are you okay," Caleb asked in a worried voice, as he gazed at her with an anxious expression plastered across his face.

Her eyes were locked down on the ground of which her feet stood upon. However, when she looked up at him, she wore half of a smile and said in a surprisingly calm voice, "It is what it is."

"Do you two think you two can come over tomorrow," Caleb asked, "we can meet in the Corvus Canteen. I think we need to sit down and discuss what we should do next."

Harry could only nod his head at Caleb, lost for words. Caleb nodded at them in return, his eyes still fixed upon Hermione, who had since returned her stare back towards the ground.

"I'm sorry about this, to both of you, I really am," Caleb finally said.

"What're you sorry for," Harry asked, now finding his voice for Caleb.

"For agreeing to go to the meeting," he replied.

"Caleb, it was better to find out about…this than not to know," Hermione told him, "don't blame yourself for anything that was said there…it's not your fault."

"Then why do I feel like it is," he questioned, his eyes darting back and forth between Harry and Hermione, giving them a hard look. "I mean, I sort of guessed that Rainer was fascinated with the future, but I had no idea it would involve you, Hermione."

"How'd you know that about Rainer," Harry asked him.

At this, Caleb's cheeks grew red as shuffled his shoes across the pavement.

"Oh, um, well you know, I did some things, and well, I don't really know," Caleb finished lamely.

After the meeting, Harry didn't have the heart to press on any further for he wanted to take Hermione back home to safety.

Hermione transfigured Caleb back into himself before she and Harry bid him a 'good night' as Harry then apparated them out of Twrill's Center and to Potter's Cottage.

Once they arrived in the foyer of the small home, Hermione changed her and Harry back to their normal selves, before she wordlessly headed up the stairs slowly, her chin tucked against her chest.

"Hermione," Harry called to her retreating back, "I want to talk to you."

She stopped her progression, halting halfway up the staircase and turned towards Harry, her eyes beat red, as two tears slipped down her cheek.

"What's there to talk about," she whispered.

"Hermione," Harry started, walking up to her, but he found that he was at a loss for words. He looked into her eyes, trying to convey all sense of meaning into his gaze, but he didn't know if she understood.

"You heard him, Harry, it's me he really wants," Hermione said quietly, "I'm responsible for all of these deaths ever since the end of the war."

"No, Hermione," Harry started but she cut him off.

"Don't deny it, Harry, just…don't, you it's true. I know you heard him just as well as I did at the meeting," she replied harshly, "I have to go to him."

Harry looked at her as if he didn't hear her correctly.

"What," was all he was able to formulate to her.

"I'm going to him," Hermione said again, nodding her head in confirmation.

"No," Harry stated quietly yet forcefully, "you're not going."

"This is where we can end everything, Harry, with Rainer," Hermione said.

Anger fired up inside of Harry before he shouted so loudly that the walls of the small home shook, "AND WHAT DO YOU EXPECT ME TO DO?! LET YOU GO AND JUST WATCH YOU DIE?!"

"I didn't ask you to come with me," she said somberly.

Harry stepped down one stair away from her as if she had physically assaulted him. His anger was instnatly extinguished by the words Hermione said to him, as if he had been doused by a bucket of ice-cold water.

"How can you say something like that?"

Now, Hermione's eyes had turned into two bodies of water, as tears were streaking down her face.

"Harry, I'm responsible for the death of Dedalus Diggle and Hestia Jones…I'm responsible for the deaths of your relatives…I'm responsible for the death of my parents. How many more people will have to die until Rainer gets what he wants?"

"I can't let you go, Hermione, you mean too much to me," Harry said, stepping closer to her again, his heart nearly ripped from his chest, as it ached like never before. He was hurting for her, but not letting Hermione giver herself to Rainer Tallis was something Harry was unwilling to negotiate for. If this turned out to be a war between Harry and Hermione, it wouldn't matter who started the conflict...all that would matter is who would end it.

"I know, and you mean so much to me too, Harry," Hermione stated. "But I can't let anyone else die for me, especially you. I just can't."

"How about we wait, Hermione," Harry suggested, "tomorrow we can go to Mr. Weasley with Caleb and we can tell him everything that we heard at the meeting tonight? We don't have to make any decisions right now."

"Harry, you heard what Rainer said. He is going to kill more people until he can get to me. We don't know how much of a risk it is to tell Mr. Weasley and have him bring the entire Department of Magical Law Enforcement to Twrill's Center."

"But maybe we'll have an advantage with Magical Law Enforcement with us! Hermione, only Rainer will be able to fight, as he said that he will see everyone at the next meeting. We can defeat him," Harry continued, "I know it's possible but we can't just go running to fight him."

Harry caressed Hermione's face with both of his hands, wiping away her tears.

"I need you to be safe," Harry said to her, "and I'm going to keep you safe."

The couple stared at one another, before Hermione sobbed, "Harry, my parents!"

He enfolded her into his arms, as she wept into his chest.

"I know, I know," Harry said softly to her, resting his chin atop of her head.

"They died because of me!"

"No, they didn't Hermione. They died because of this raving lunatic," Harry responded, as he wrapped his arms tighter and tighter around her.

However, just then, both Harry and Hermione heard a sound.

 _TAP…TAP…TAP_.

Harry released Hermione and gave her a curious look.

"You heard that, didn't you?"

Hermione nodded her head in answer.

 _TAP…TAP…TAP_.

"It sounds like it's coming from the living room," Hermione stated, causing Harry to grab her hand and walk with her into the blackness of the living area. Once there, they spotted an owl tapping its beak against their window, a small package rolled in a small black cloak clutched in its razor-sharp talons.

Harry looked at Hermione anxiously before he waved his wand, causing the window to open, emitting the owl entrance into Potter's Cottage.

The owl flew inside and dropped the package onto the living room's table with a heavy _THUD_ before it soared back out of the still-open window.

Harry and Hermione walked slowly over to the package, not knowing what it contained. Hermione's hands were clutching Harry's arm tightly as he unfurled the cloak until the sight before them made Harry jump back and Hermione scream. Strewn on the table before them lay Tabby's severed head, his eyes gone, as small slip of parchment was fixated upon the house-elf's forehead.

Harry took the parchment into his hand with Hermione at his shoulder. It read:

 _Come to Twrill's Center in the next five minutes, or else I will display your friend's carcass all over Godric's Hollow. If you bring any reinforcements, I will kill all of you on the spot. I believe there are matters you wish to discuss with me, as I wish to discuss with you. There will be no need for bloodshed, unless you two are foolish enough to instigate one. You have five minutes._

Harry looked over at Hermione, horror written on both of their faces. This was it…they were going back to Twrill's Center that night, not only to save Caleb, but to save themselves.

* * *

Author's Note: Hello all! I hoped some secrets were revealed to you in this chapter, with the final secrets being revealed in my finale bringing everything together. The finale will be presented in two separate chapters, as both will be posted **next Saturday**. As a small forewarning, there will be deaths within the finale. As always thanks for everyone that has reviewed and thanks for reading.


	21. Down the River

**Author's Note** : Hello all! I usually place my notes at the end of every chapter but since this is the end of my story, I decided it would be best to place it at the beginning. I started posting this story at the beginning of August, and here we are, slightly over two months later, as it is now complete. This story initially started as a one-shot, before I decided that it had the potential to become a full-length story. I'm a firm believer in the Harry/Hermione pairing, and only wish that JK Rowling had followed through with it. However, she did not, which is completely fine, and that is why we have FanFiction.  
I want to say "thank you" to everyone that has read and reviewed my story…it means a lot! Halfway through writing this story, I thought that this was going to be my final foray into the world of FanFiction, but I have another story that I'm formulating in my head right now, so my time on this site isn't over yet. I had originally planned for the finale to be presented in two parts, but I found a way to condense it down to just one. Please feel free to review this story for one final time before you depart from it, and I sincerely hope you enjoy the finale. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 21: Down the River

The sound of their shoes slammed against the asphalt they ran upon, their hearts hammering because of its imprisonment within their bodies. Stitches pierced their sides, like a sword drawing blood, draining them of what little energy they had left. Although the air was cold, droplets of sweat streamed down their faces like that of runners finishing a marathon. Thunder roared into the dark night, its booming sounds hovering over Godric's Hollow, though the rain was absent from this wild nocturnal escapade.

With Hermione's hand was clasped within Harry's, they darted past the graveyard next to the small steeple, not even thinking of looking back, for their thoughts were dispersed over a never-ending spectrum of fear and revulsion.

' _Tabby is dead, Tabby is dead, Tabby is dead_ ,' Harry thought to himself, over and over like a dark hymn, as although he did not know the house-elf extremely well, he did grow fond of him over the two times he had met him. There was something about Tabby, Harry remembered, that sparked small bubbles of excitement against the base of his stomach, somewhat akin to what Harry felt for Dobby. A cheerfulness of sorts stretched itself over Harry seeing Tabby in The Corvus Canteen, and now, he was dead.

Harry looked over at Hermione, her eyes red with near tears, while her bushy hair was flying behind her, like it was its own creature, from their sprint they were currently enduring and from the increasing howling wind. He squeezed her hand, trying not only to reassure her that everything was going to be alright, but he was also trying to reassure himself. Something was coming though; a voice inside of Harry whispered to him that something was definitely coming for them that very night.

The couple chased past the war memorial, again without a second glance, as they then entered the main part of the village. Not a soul was out and about, for it seemed that Godric's Hollow was an abandoned parish, eagerly waiting for Harry and Hermione to be left for dead, so that it could allow itself to be overrun by its own ruins.

They darted in between Talbert's Treasurers and Crovus, the white bricks of the two buildings flanking both of their sides. Minding to step over the puddle of water that was gathered in the middle of the dim alleyway, Harry and Hermione went over to the painting of the woman and the raven where Harry rapped his wand three times against it and said in a harsh and quick whisper, "Potter, party of two." Just like the times before, the woman gave them a slight nod while the black raven flew off of her right shoulder and out of the picture. After the woman disappeared, a door formed, in which Harry and Hermione entered through hastily.

The pair hurriedly walked down the stairs and entered into the deserted The Corvus Canteen, where their eyes fell upon a repugnant sight: Tabby's headless body was displayed upside down, plastered against one wall, his blood having spilled out of his dead corpse as it was lying in a pool on the floor just below him. Harry and Hermione stared at this scene in horror, wondering just how diabolical Rainer Tallis was on his quest for ultimate power.

Seeing all that he could stomach, Harry pulled Hermione away, across the empty eatery, and out through the red door. However, before they could walk up the final set of stairs that would lead them directly into the heart of Twrill's Center, Hermione stopped, making Harry do the same.

"What," he asked, turning his head to his right to look at her.

"Harry, keep your voice down," Hermione told him quietly, giving him a hard stare.

"But what are we stopping for," he questioned, making sure to speak softly.

"Harry, I can't imagine that Rainer wouldn't have some sort of security waiting for us up there," Hermione told him, nodding her head towards the top of the stairs. "We need to be careful."

Harry nodded his head as they both took hold of their wands, as they cautiously sneaked up the steps. Sure enough, Hermione had been right for there were three bulky men that were waiting for them near the stone bridge that stood over the waterway, connecting the two sides of Twrill's Center together.

Harry pulled Hermione back down the steps before he said, "We have to move fast if we're going to get past them. You stun one and I'll stun the other."

"What about the third man," she asked.

"We'll take him on together," Harry answered firmly. "Are you ready?"

"Do you think there are more people hiding from us," Hermione questioned.

"Maybe, but we need to get to Caleb," Harry replied. "Who knows what's happening to him right now."

Hermione visibly shuddered before she sucked in a deep breath, before letting it out.

"Just, please Hermione, please be safe," Harry said, looking at her.

"You know I can't make any promises, Harry," she responded, "we don't know how many people are waiting for us. But I'll do my best and you have to, too."

Harry nodded his head wordlessly at her before they slowly crept back up the stairs. Harry aimed his wand at one of the men while out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione do the same.

"On the count of three then," Harry started in a whisper, "one…two…three."

" _STUPEFY_ ," they yelled together. Two jets of red light soared out of their wands, both hitting two different men who crumbled down in a heap.

At once, the final man left standing whipped around and shot off a streak of white light towards them.

" _PROTEGO_ ," Harry and Hermione yelled together in unison, effectively blocking them from any harm.

"Come on," Harry said, motioning for Hermione to follow him.

The stepped out into the open space, as the man fired off two jets of yellow light at them. Harry and Hermione dived out of the way, before Hermione flung around, and shot off a jet of purple light over at the man. He deflected it, before he took off, running over the overpass away from them.

Harry pursued the man, running past the bodies of the two stunned men, not hearing Hermione's calls to stop him. The wind whipping over his face as he ran over the bridge, Harry aimed his wand and yelled, " _STUPEFY!_ " His jet of red light flew over the man's shoulder and shattered one of the front windows of Zwoo's Tectum, the animal shop, where a small explosion was heard inside.

The man turned around and shot a jet of blue light at Harry, who ducked underneath it, before he yelled, " _INCARCEROUS!_ " A thick black rope flew over towards the man, however, he waved his wand and in the next instant, the black rope turned into a murderous serpent and was racing back towards Harry, its fangs barred.

Harry froze at this sight until a voice behind him yelled, " _CONFRINGO!_ " The serpent was blasted into smithereens as Hermione then directed her wand at the man and shouted, " _PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!_ "

He moved out of the way before he slashed his wand through the air, making a large knife suddenly materialize and fly directly over at Harry, its metal glinting under a streak of lightning that lit up the black sky that was followed by a roll of loud thunder.

"Harry, move," Hermione screamed. He did as he was told, though not fast enough for the knife scraped his cheek, as Harry instantly felt a warm tickle race down his face and onto his neck.

" _AVIS_ ," Harry heard Hermione yell next to him, as a flock of blue canaries shot over toward the man like bullets being unleashed from its barrel. The man tried to wave the birds away by use of his flailing arms, as the canaries started pecking away at the man's face. However, just then, the ground underneath Harry and Hermione exploded.

Harry seemed to lose all hearing in his right ear while he felt his body fly through the air; he barely caught sight of Hermione next to him. Not a second later, the two teens splashed into the river, the cool waters rising up over their heads, sinking them into its depths like their pockets were full of heavy stones.

Shaking his head within the pressure of the water around him, Harry looked around him and saw that Hermione was coming to, as she looked over at him, as if she was making sure he was alive, before she rose upwards. Harry copied her movements, his face breaking the surface of the water.

When he did so, he heard Hermione yell, " _DENSAUGEO!_ " Harry looked over and saw that a woman's teeth grow at a terrifying rate, as he deduced that the woman was the cause of the explosion which flung him and Hermione into the river.

" _STUPEFY_ ," both Harry and Hermione bellowed, sending two jets of red light that slammed into the woman, sending her backwards, crashing into one of the front windows of Malvolia's Caravansary.

Harry and Hermione struggled to climb up over the river's banks, their drenched clothes weighing them down. After they successfully did so, before either teen could plot their next move, a streak of silver light brushed Hermione's shoulder, making her cry out in pain. Harry turned his head around and a saw that a jet of orange light was flying directly at him.

"Hermione, duck!"

She did as she was told, as the orange light flew over the heads, and until it impacted Malvolia's Caravansary across the river, setting the entire building aflame.

" _EXPULSO_ ," Harry screamed at the man, who had since gotten rid of Hermione's birds, but he moved out of the way, as Harry's spell blasted a large hole into the side wall of Cloak and Dagger's Bookshop, sending small bits of rock and debris flying into the air.

However, before anyone else could exchange spell fire, several _HOOT's_ were heard, as Harry, Hermione, and the man all looked over to see at least a dozen owls fly out of the smashed open window of Zwoo's Tectum.

Harry and the man turned their attention back on one another as they shot two jets of light at one another. Their spells ricocheted off of each other, as Harry's spell blasted another hole in Cloak and Dagger's Bookshop, while the man's spell hit a nearby owl, killing it instantly.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ " Harry tackled Hermione down to the ground roughly, as a jet of green light soared over their fallen bodies.

Harry watched in horror as the man raised his wand again, prepared to strike the entanglement that was Harry and Hermione before a black raven suddenly materialized out of thin air. The raven then transformed into the tall man Harry had seen outside of the living room window of Potter's Cottage over the past several weeks, as he pointed his wand at Harry and Hermione's attacker and shot a jet of light blue light at him, in which the man was blasted violently backwards into Cloak and Dagger's Bookshop.

" _BOMBARDA MAXIMA_ ," the tall man said with constrained ferocity, as the bookstore was blasted apart, blocks of concrete and a cascade of falling books fell atop of the man, crushing him to death.

The air was suddenly painstakingly still as the tall man then turned around to face Harry and Hermione, who were both breathing heavily, his face a mask conceiving no emotion, while his eyes seemed bored with the night's transgressions.

"Rainer Tallis requests your presence in Phosphenes," the tall man said, eyeing both of them with mounting dislike, "and he would like to see you both alive". The tall man then gestured forward, letting Harry and Hermione stand to their feet for them to lead the way to the handsome manor.

With Malvolia's Caravansary burning in bright flames behind them, Harry, Hermione, and the tall man made their way past the line of stores of Twrill's Center, over the opposite stone bridge they had crossed earlier than evening when sneaking into the meeting. The three then progressed up the set of spiral stairs before arriving on a large balcony, before Harry and Hermione walked in through the open doors of the mansion.

The pair paced down the hallway lined with paintings of exotic-like magical creatures, before they walked through another set of open doors, leading the way into the large hall where the meeting had been held just hours previously.

This time, however, instead of fifty people situated around the large, polished brown table, only Rainer Tallis was there, waiting for them to grace him with their presence. Harry saw that he was still dressed in his black suit and black bow tie.

"Quite a show, I must say, to both of you," Rainer said in a deep voice that bounced around the large hall, "I was watching from one of my windows." The tall man walked away from Harry and Hermione to stand behind Rainer; Harry noticed that neither man took his or Hermione's wands away from them.

"Where's Caleb," Harry asked, ignoring the praise he and Hermione was given.

"In the woods, waiting for us," Rainer answered easily. "I would take you there right now but I believe there are matters we must discuss before we venture out there."

"Why do we need to go into the woods," Hermione asked, a bruise coloring her cheek while scrapes lined her neck, looking at Rainer with pure loathing.

"I'll explain everything in due time," he replied, "but for now, I want to explain some things to you. Of course, any questions that you have for me, I'll make sure to answer them to the best of my ability. And I should tell you that if you even so much as to think about attacking the two us, let it be known that Caleb will never see another sunrise again. We know where he is and you do not."

"Why are you acting like this to us," Harry questioned, generally confused and with good reason. "We heard you at your meeting…y-you-,"

"Want me dead," Hermione finished, making Harry look over at her, his bright, green eyes full of hurt.

In turn, Rainer's yellow eyes seemed to gleam wickedly, before he answered in a quiet voice, "By the end of the night, the two of you will be no more. It's true what I said at my meeting the three of you permeated, I am going to kill you Hermione Granger, and I will then kill you Harry Potter."

Rainer read the two teens their death sentences' calmly, as if he was talking about the night's weather.

Harry heard Hermione's breath hitch beside him.

"Is it too much to ask that you spare Caleb," Harry spat out bitterly, hatred surging through him like the harsh winds blowing in the midst of a vast cyclone.

"Yes, I can see why you would ask about that young man though I think the two of you don't know his secret," Rainer replied.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, knowing that Rainer was on the verge of divulging who Caleb really was.

"We'll come back to him at a more opportune time. To start, I think it is appropriate to tell you two how I am able to see into the future."

"We know how you do it," Harry interrupted, "you use a time-turner that you stole from the Ministry of Magic."

Rainer gave Harry a cold look before he responded, "Mind you musings, Potter, for let's not forget who destroyed most of the time-turners in the Department of Mysteries, shall we? Think about what I created! Think about the possibilities we could each have to see into our own futures!"

"You're treating it as a weapon…using it for nothing other than for your own personal gain," Harry stated loudly.

"Perhaps, but that is what people do with power of their own, is it not? I want to ask you something, Potter. Back when Voldemort returned, wouldn't you have liked to know if you were going to make it out of the war alive? Wouldn't that have given you some hope, some restoration to your mind, as you and your silly little friends journeyed over much of Great Britain vying for him to meet his downfall? Think of all the lives you could have saved…think about how different your future would be right now."

Harry would be lying to himself if he thought that Rainer didn't make a good point.

"Harry would see the future differently than you already have," Hermione shot out, rescuing Harry from having to answer Rainer's questions.

"Of course he would, Miss Granger, as we all different people, both inside and out. But that does not mean my questions are rendered invalid. We all have choices to make, I just happen to know the outcome of choices I do not make."

"You mean murder," Harry said over to Rainer acidly.

"Precisely…precisely," Rainer responded, nodding his head with a look of anarchy over his face. "But, back to my original point, the reason that I was able to transform the time-turner to allow me to see into the future was because of the man standing behind me."

Harry and Hermione shifted their eyes away from Rainer to look at the tall man that was standing behind him, silently watching them…digesting every word that was being spoken.

"Who is he," Hermione asked, as this mysterious man had been infecting Harry's mind over the past couple of weeks, repeatedly seeing him just outside of the perimeter of Potter's Cottage.

Rainer turned around and requested, "Why don't you explain yourself to them?"

The tall man stepped forward and looked over the table at Harry and Hermione with a blank expression on his face.

"My name is Bogdan Roul, and I am the direct blood-descendant of the first wizard Seer, Norman Rendell," the tall man said to them, finally introducing himself. He spoke in a raspy voice, as if he hadn't used his vocal chords in decades.

"Are you a Seer too," Hermione asked, as if she couldn't stop herself from harvesting more bits of knowledge.

Bogdan looked at her with silence before he said, "No, I am not a Seer, though because my ancestor's blood runs through my veins, I have…unique abilities in which I am able to appropriate in my animagus form, which you know now is a black raven."

Harry digested what Bogdan had said, as he then asked, "So is the myth of the woman and the raven true then?"

"Yes, it is true," Bogdan replied.

"But why are you working with him," Harry asked, nodding his head off towards Rainer who was watching their conversation unfold from nearby, his face hidden in shadows, while his yellow eyes sparkled brightly.

"You have something that I desire," Bogdan answered.

Harry looked over at Hermione to see her look back at him with confusion etched upon her face. Harry, himself, was quite puzzled as well, as he did not know what Bodgan wanted.

"What is it," Harry finally inquired.

"On the outskirts of Potter's Cottage, a small dwelling sits just within the woods behind your property. That is one of the homes of my dead ancestors," Bogdan replied.

Shock resounded through Harry like a coil twisting in the hollowness that he felt in his stomach, as not long ago, he and Hermione had found the very home Bogdan was describing to them, thinking it was nothing more than a small outing that Harry's parents may or may not have known about. Yet, the truth of the matter was that it was tied to the history of Godric's Hollow…the history of Twrill's Center…the history of the woman and the raven.

"I can see it in your eyes that you know what I'm talking about," Bogdan assessed, inclining his head towards the duo.

"What do you want with that home," Harry asked.

"It is the last piece of property I have in conjunction with my ancestors," Bogdan replied simply. "It is something that belongs to me."

"Why didn't you come for it before," Harry started, "before my parents and I moved in?"

"I was…disposed for a long period of time and did not have the strength for it," Bogdan answered in a grave voice.

"What do you mean by disposed," Hermione inquired.

Bogdan seemed to critically think about if he wanted to share this piece of news with the two before he said, "I was in a duel where I was nearly killed. Rainer helped me regain my strength over time."

"What kind of duel were you in," Harry nearly demanded, as the truth about so many pressing questions he had were finally coming to light.

"It was a decade before the revival of Twrill's Center took place. Twrill's Center was nothing but a collection of nine small homes, one for each one of my ancestor's children, yet the tenth home that belonged to my ancestor along with his wife whom he married a short time before they had their offspring, was missing. I didn't think of searching in the woods beyond because I didn't think any home would dwell amongst the trees.

"I was a young man, then, and whispers came about of my condition, that of which my animagus form can assist a few fortunate souls to show them their future. A foolish man came to me, demanding me to help him to see his future, and when I did not, he and I dueled. But being the young man that I was, I was ill-prepared and he got the better of me. He decided to leave me for dead, making me wallow in the timing of which death would soon come for me, to take my soul to whatever it is that comes after we breathe our last.

"However, not even hours after I was struck down, Rainer appeared and took me away from magical Britain where I stayed in a small community just on the outskirts of Gothenburg in Sweden where he nursed me back to health. While I was recovering, Rainer came back to Twrill's Center and revitalized the area, housing it not only for himself, but for me as well, so that when I came back, I could locate the home of my ancestor."

"But all of the other homes were destroyed," Hermione clarified, "except the one that you haven't found yet."

"I know of that but I can say that I didn't have any interest in those homes," Bogdan said, "for none of my ancestor's children were Seers themselves. They meant nothing to me."

However, with everything Bogdan told them, something still confused Harry.

"You said that your animagus form can help someone see the future? How is that possible," Harry questioned.

Bogdan looked over at Rainer who slanted his head slightly, before Bogdan turned back around to face Harry and Hermione.

"Although I am not a Seer myself, the blood of one runs through my very veins. In my animagus form, one of my feathers can be transposed within the time-turner itself by a spell, that allows the wearer of the device to travel forward in time," Bogdan told them. "Of course, as you heard Rainer say earlier before, the wearer of the time-turner has a short amount of availability to see into the future."

"But that day I saw you in St. Mungo's," Harry started, "your feathers were all over the fourth-floor ward. If your feathers are as valuable as you say they are, wouldn't you try to take more care of them?"

"I cannot help the fact that I am still suffering from the duel I was in many years ago," Bogdan responded, "I am dying a slow death and I have been for quite some time. Rainer's treatment of my injuries was only temporary. Indeed, I shall be dead before the year is through."

Harry's heart seemed to turn into a cold glacier at the sound of his words, seeing how Harry, himself, accepted his death at the hands of Voldemort just a couple of months ago, though Harry knew he had something and people to live for, while Bogdan treated death as more of an honorary passage, one in which he seemed to be more than ready to accept, as if it was long overdue.

"So all you wanted was to see the home of your ancestor," Hermione asked, her voice masquerading one of stark disbelief.

"Quite," Bogdan replied, "but I have also agreed to help Rainer in his mission for knowing his future as he stalled my imminent death many years prior."

"This then leads me to ask you some questions of my own," Rainer inserted suddenly, walking to take Bogdan's place at the table across from Harry and Hermione, and staring evilly over at them with his yellow eyes. "I suspect that Potter's Cottage was under wards that made it invisible to witches and wizards, is that correct?"

Harry looked over at Hermione quickly and saw in her eyes no reason to lie to him. He turned back to glance at Rainer as he replied, "Mr. Weasley, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, set up wards over Potter's Cottage after we returned from Australia."

"That is exactly what I thought," Rainer replied with a slight edge to his voice. "Well, I suppose you two bought yourself just a few more weeks to live then…nothing more and nothing less."

"What kind of wards did you set up over Twrill's Center that makes anyone unable to apparate inside the village," Harry asked, seeing that Rainer had fallen silent.

"Why I'm sure Miss Granger will be able to answer that for you, couldn't you," he said, looking over at Hermione, raising his eyebrows in the process.

"It's because you worked as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries," she deduced, "and you were able to get a Ministry appeal to erect wards over Twrill's Center due to the fact that Voldemort had returned and started another war and the Ministry was nearly overrun trying to bring him and his Death Eaters down. Because the Ministry was full of activity, you must've tweaked their verdict so that no one would be able to apparate into Twrill's Center directly but you left it open for people to apparate out of Twrill's Center so that just in case the Ministry came here, after verifying any records they have of this place, you could make a quick escape."

"It is no wonder then that you become the future Minister of Magic, Miss Granger. I must applaud you for your expert reasoning skills," Rainer said, though even as he was complimenting Hermione, his voice was cold. In turn, Hermione didn't blush at his fraudulent display of admiration but instead she glared over at him. "I guess you leave little to the imagination of why you are such a threat to me in the future."

Rainer's yellow eyes shimmered over at Hermione, sending a spook tracking through Harry, as he sensed a dreading sense of danger that was looming ever closer to the pair of them.

"If Potter's Cottage is hidden from both Muggles and witches and wizards, how were you able to find it by sending the note to us," Harry asked, explicitly leaving out Tabby's severed head, as he was still repulsed by the mere sight of it.

"I did not find where Potter's Cottage is…an owl I borrowed from Zwoo's Tectum did. You see, magical wards are predisposed against those of witches, wizards, and Muggles, however they do not discriminate against magical creatures. It was foolish of me that I hadn't thought of that before, I digress, but I have been away, as I have just arrived in Twrill's Center not even three nights ago," Rainer replied. "Now, I want to take the two of you into the woods where you will be reunited with your friend Caleb, and then I will kill you all," he continued, as Harry noticed Rainer stressed the word 'friend' when mentioning Caleb's name.

"If you're going to kill us, what's the point of bringing us into the woods? Why not just kill us here," Harry asked sourly.

"Because, I want the both of you to see into your futures…a future in which you will cease to exist. I want you to feel the pain in knowing what you will miss out later in what life has planned for you two. I want you to suffer, just like I did when I saw my own future," Rainer answered, his voice as deep and malevolent as if the devil himself had spoken. "Also, I know you don't know the truth about who Caleb really is, yet I do.

"You see, it was because of Caleb that I knew you three were at the meeting. No, he isn't working for me," Rainer explained, seeing the looks on both Harry and Hermione's faces, "but I have seen Caleb before, and I remember his bright, hazel eyes. It was something either you overlooked when you performed human transfiguration on yourselves to attend my meeting, but I think young Caleb is quite proud of his bright, hazel eyes, considering what I know of him. It is because of his eyes that I was able to capture him after my meeting had ended. I have to say that I'm surprised that neither of you did not ask how Caleb knew so much about my meetings in the first place."

Harry and Hermione glanced at one another again, as that very question floated within their minds, but after being delivered so much information this night, they hadn't thought to ask it.

"Well, from the looks you are giving each other, I can tell you what I know. It was quite simple really…all I did was have Bogdan place the innkeeper of Malvolia's Caravansary under the Imperius Curse. What a foolish woman she is," Rainer clarified to them. "But yes, Caleb was also foolish enough to play right into my plans; interesting character he is."

"What do you know," Hermione asked, her voice quiet, as they were teetering on the edge of figuring out the mystery surrounding who Caleb really is.

"In due time, in due time, but first, it is time for all of us to go into the woods," Rainer commented as if he was about to attend a party, making his way around the grand, polished brown table. He walked past Harry and Hermione, who were made to follow him by that of Bogdan's brandished wand, as the party walked out of the double open doors of the grand hall, past the paintings of the exotic animals that lined the hallway, through the foyer, in which Harry saw another bout of white fur on the tiled floor, and out of the doors of Phosphenes.

They walked down the spiral staircase but instead of crossing back over the stone bridge, Rainer turned to his immediate right as Harry saw the vastness of the dark woods displayed in front of them. Rainer took out his wand and said with distinct clarity, " _LUMOS_ ," as his wand tip was instantly ignited, a bright light against the black night, as they started to make their way towards the trees.

As another rumble of thunder was heard above off in the distance, the four walked along the slippery banks of the river on their left, its dark waters like that of streams of madness threatening to drown those that dared to walk so near to its edge. The trees on their right reflected that of dementors, hovering on the brink of no other reason to exist besides crushing the souls of its victims.

On and on the party of four walked in quietness, the water rippling in small waves in the breezy wind, acting to Harry as secretive caveats for what has yet to come, while the trees bristled in the darkness, with only Rainer's ignited wand-tip being the sole source of light for the himself, Harry, Hermione, and Bogdan. As the thunder rumbled overhead, Harry noticed that it was distinctly less pronounced than before.

Hermione stepped on a twig, snapping it cleanly in half, as its crack echoed around them, its sound vibrating through Harry.

After some time, from the tip of Rainer's wand, Harry saw that the river curved around a corner, with a mass of rock jutting out part of the way over the water. The current seemed to become strong around this corner as the stream, though not seeming to be that deep, charged forward faster than it did before.

It was here that Rainer had stopped walking, making Harry, Hermione, and Bogdan stop as well.

"In case you're wondering, you're friend is over there," Rainer said, nodding his head over at a thin tree, again stressing the word 'friend.'

Harry and Hermione looked over and were terrified to see that Caleb's face had a deep gash that ran over his forehead, masking one side of his face completely in red blood. He was bound against the thin tree, with barbed wire wrapped against his chest and stomach as his shirt was ripped in a number of places as his head lolled over onto his left shoulder, his eyes closed. He seemed very, very weak.

"Let him go," Harry demanded at once, making to step towards him.

However, in the next instant, Harry was blasted backwards, as he roughly fell on his back onto the forest floor. He looked up to see Rainer's wand trained over at him, just as Hermione hurried over to help Harry up.

"Are you alright," she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry softly replied back.

"Let's be clear about something here," Rainer started, his eyes flashing a dangerous shade of yellow, "you two will not dictate the terms of what is about to take place. Is that understood?"

When Harry and Hermione didn't respond, Rainer raised his wand and said, " _EXPELLIARMUS!_ " Instantly, both Harry and Hermione's wands flew into his outstretched hand before he stuffed it into one of the pockets on the inside of his black suit jacket.

"Now," Rainer said in a calmer manner, "like I told you back in my mansion, I am going to show you both of your futures." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a time-turner. Harry noted that it looked just like the one Hermione had back in third-year.

Rainer walked over to Harry who stilled, as Rainer placed the time-turner around his neck. Rainer then turned to Bogdan and said, "If you please."

Harry looked over and saw Bogdan close his eyes before his form shrunk down, just as black feathers started sprouting all over his skin. In the next instant, a raven had appeared as it flew over and situated itself on Rainer's shoulders, with Bogdan's human clothes lying in a wasteful pile next Hermione's feet.

Rainer pointed his wand at the raven and gave it a sight wave, as a single black feather parted ways with the bird's body. Rainer grasped the feather in his wand-free hand as he stared over at Harry evilly.

If Harry knew that he, Hermione, and Caleb would be alive come sunrise, Harry would've been somewhat excited to see what his future is like. But, with his and Hermione's wands confiscated, while Caleb seemed to be near the point of no return, Harry didn't know how the three of them were going to make it out of their current predicament alive, especially given the fact that Rainer had already said he would kill the three of them, with his main target being Hermione, someone who Harry would not be able to part with.

"You should be thankful, Potter, that I'm not going to murder you without giving you a chance to see your future," Rainer said, still staring at him. "I fancy seeing myself as being rather merciful to you and to Miss Granger, don't you think?"

"You're nothing more than a murderer," Harry spat out at him.

Silence fell between them before Rainer commented softly, "I can't say that I'm sorry you feel that way, Potter, but remember, we have the free will to choose our destinies…nothing is predetermined for us. Although Miss Granger stops me from taking control of the Ministry of Magic in the current future, it can be altered and it will with her death, in which your death will soon follow, and I will finish off with Caleb's. Caleb is interesting, wouldn't you two agree," Rainer asked, now addressing both Harry and Hermione.

"You still haven't told us what you know about him," Hermione stated.

Rainer glared over at Hermione while seeming to digest her words. "Well, seeing as Potter here will know soon enough, I'll tell you this: back in April, when I first attempted to travel into the future, the time-turner malfunctioned for a reason I do not know. Caleb was brought back with me, though he escaped before I could come to. A funny thing, time, as it's about to be something that you, Potter, and you, Miss Granger, will soon run out of."

Their minds both buzzing at what Rainer had just told them, Harry looked over at Hermione and saw that she was looking back at Caleb. Harry did the same, and wondered how did Caleb come from the future?

Without another word, Rainer placed the black feather against the small time-turner that was currently resting against Harry's shirt. Brandishing his wand at the black feather and time-turner, Rainer murmured, " _IRE VADE_."

As a burning flash of yellow light started to surround Harry, he saw that an owl suddenly appeared out of the darkness of the trees, as it flew directly towards Bogdan's animagus-raven form. The two birds clashed in midair, as Rainer dropped his wand in the ensuing melee. Harry briefly saw Hermione pick up Rainer's fallen wand, point it at Caleb and yell, " _RELASHIO!_ " A fiery jet of purple sparks flew over at the barbed wire, which then relinquished its hold on the frail teen. However, horror rushed through Harry as suddenly, Rainer transformed into a large white tiger, as it charged at Hermione, giving a mighty roar and snarling viciously. Harry was hopeless to do anything, for at that moment, the yellow light burned against his skin, as he passed out from the pain.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and saw a strange sight before him: he seemed to be back in Potter's Cottage, looking upon himself and Hermione, much older than they were supposed to be, sitting down at a dining room table, while, what looked like two teenagers, were sitting with them. The girl was a spitting image of a younger Hermione, while the boy looked a lot like Caleb, with a messy pile of untamable brown hair sitting atop of his head, and bright, hazel eyes.

"How do you two feel about returning to Hogwarts tomorrow," the older Harry asked, looking over at the two teens, "starting your fifth-year now."

The teen boy rolled his bright, hazel eyes while the teenage girl's bright, green eyes said, "I can't wait to go back! I've been meaning to ask Professor Longbottom if the bite from the Venomous Tentacula always kills the person that was bitten by it. Didn't the wizard Derwent Shimpling eat an entire Venomous Tentacula and survive? I believe he did, and that must mean that healers are able to-,"

"Cassie, why are on earth are you talking about N.E.W.T.-level work? We're only going to be fifth-years! We still have to worry about O.W.L.s," the teenage boy said in annoyance.

"Excuse me, Caleb," Cassie huffed in clear exasperation, "but I wasn't aware that my interest in my own studies had anything to do with you."

"Well, just for your information, it does," Caleb shot back, "I mean, you need to loosen up a bit. You're always so uptight and worried about achieving the highest marks in school and about being the best, it's exhausting just to keep up with you! I know you're my twin sister and all, but you need to give your strange taste of trying to know about everything a rest."

"Caleb," both the older versions of Harry and Hermione scolded.

"No, it's alright mum and dad," Cassie said, seeming to be unaffected by Caleb's words, "it's pretty clear that Caleb has taken too many shots to the head during his Quidditch games to even try and follow the study schedule I draw up for him every year near finals time."

"What a lie! You've never drawn up a study schedule for me," Caleb retorted.

"I have too! Honestly, if it wasn't for your need to impress Mikayla Lovegood at every single Quidditch game or during every class we have with the Ravenclaws, you would be doing a lot better in school!"

"Cass," Caleb warned in a low voice, glowering at her before looking over at the older versions of Harry and Hermione with a guilty look on his face. "I'm sure mum, being the Minister of Magic, and dad, being the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, is both busy enough than to sit here, listening to your wild, made-up fantasies about me and Mentally-Unbalanced Lovegood."

Just as the older versions of Harry and Hermione had opened their mouths, both of their eyes full of anger at their son's words, the burning yellow light surrounded Harry again, as he closed his eyes, trying to will the pain to subside. Harry felt his skin blaze as if he was thrown into an inferno, while his body screamed for this sudden torment to end. As the heat steadily rose to become unbearable, Harry fell unconscious.

* * *

He opened his eyes, hearing an ear-splitting roar, a shout of ' _PROTEGO_ ,' a whimpering cry, and a loud thud.

Harry realized he was lying on his back on the forest floor, a mess of twigs and leaves underneath him. In a daze, he sat up, his eyes trying to readjust back to the nighttime hours, as he looked around and saw chaos: the raven was motionless feet from him, its head twisted at an odd angle, while its feathers were scattered about over the ground while a white tiger lie on its side, tuffs of white fur missing from its back and neck, as Harry heard the animal whine out in pain.

Harry thought about what he just saw in the form of his family in the future. He was with Hermione, and they presumably had twins together: a boy named Caleb, and a girl named Cassie. To Harry, it was perfect. Nothing needed to be altered and nothing need to be changed, for his family of four that still resided in Potter's Cottage in the future was all he ever wanted...Harry couldn't wait to have it.

"Harry, Harry, are you okay," came the worried voice of Hermione from nearby. Not a second later, her face came into view in front of him, as he saw that her brows were pulled together, her hair a wild mess, and besides a couple of scrapes on her cheek, she looked unhurt.

"Hermione," Harry breathed out, pulling her into a fierce hug, holding her tightly against him. She hugged him back, wrapping her arms around him, as they awkwardly sat on the forest floor, clinging to one another.

When they pulled away, Hermione handed Harry his wand as he asked, "What happened?"

"Well, I think you saw the owl that suddenly attacked the raven, right," Hermione asked.

Harry nodded his head and asked, "Why did that owl do that though?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "I don't know for sure, but I think I read in a book before that some owls attack other birds if they feel threatened."

"So then, is Bogdan dead," Harry asked, looking over at the unmoving bird.

"Yes," Hermione answered, "I didn't see much of it, but I'm sure he's dead."

Harry's eyes moved from the dead bird over to the still whimpering white tiger. "And what about Rainer?"

"He's injured…I hit him with a spell," she explained quickly, also looking over at the transformed tiger. "We should bring him to the Ministry of Magic, where I'm sure he'll get sent to Azkaban Prison."

"I should've known, Hermione, about Rainer," Harry said, shaking his head in disbelief, "I saw the white fur many times before."

"Harry, there was no way you could've known that Rainer was an animagi," Hermione scolded, "you can't blame yourself for that."

Suddenly, Harry looked up at Hermione, alarm blaring within his irises, remembering what he had seen in his future, as he asked, "Caleb…what about Caleb?"

A sad look crossed over Hermione's face, as tears started pooling in her eyes.

"He didn't make it, Harry," Hermione said, three tears streaming down her face, "he was already dead by the time I was able to get to him."

Shock…guilt…shame…shock…guilt…shame…shock…guilt…shame. That was all Harry could feel at that very moment. His future son, no, his and Hermione's future son…was dead. Harry's future was literally ripped from him without prejudice. Since Caleb was from the future, what did that mean for him when he was due to be born?

Harry felt the need to tell Hermione about Caleb, as maybe she would know what happened to people who came from the future only to die in the past.

"Hermione, I have something to tell you…it's about Caleb," Harry started in a pained voice.

However, before he could say anything further, a ferocious snarl was heard from nearby. Harry's eyes widened, as did Hermione's, before they both looked over at the white tiger, picking itself up from the forest floor.

Harry and Hermione rushed to their feet just as the white tiger turned around and faced them, its bright yellow eyes trained on its prey. Harry and Hermione's breaths mingled together in the still air of the woods, both of their hearts hammering within their chests. A spike of fear shot through Harry as he remembered that Hermione was to be the vessel for Rainer's ferocity. At this thought, he moved in front of Hermione, shielding her from an impending doom.

With an ear-splitting roar, the white tiger charged at the pair, while both Harry and Hermione shot a flurry of curses at it.

With immense speed and skill, the white tiger avoided each hex and curse Harry and Hermione unleashed, before it jumped at the pair.

"DUCK," Harry yelled out, grabbing a handful of Hermione's t-shirt and dragging her towards the ground.

The white tiger's body leaped over Harry and Hermione's crouched figures. The beast landed softly on its paws, before it turned back around and charged for a second time.

As the animal rose into the air again, Hermione pointed her wand and conjured a massive net. The white tiger was unable to maneuver away from it in mid-air, as the roaring cat jumped directly into it, effectively trapped.

Breathing heavily, Harry lowered his wand and looked down at the cat. He sighed in mild relief, believing that his and Hermione's forthcoming danger was now over.

He went over to Hermione and wrapped her in his arms again, as she tucked into his chest.

"It's over, Hermione, it's over," Harry whispered against her hair, before kissing the top of her head.

They both stood there, in the middle of the black forest, hanging onto one another, unwilling to let go, all the while the white tiger glared up at them, as if daring Harry or Hermione to finish it off for good.

After several silenced minutes passed by, Harry looked over and saw Caleb's dead body lying feet away.

"Hermione…Caleb," Harry managed to choke out.

Harry released Hermione from his hold and left her standing over the tiger as he went over to Caleb. He bent over his future son and saw that his eyes were closed, breathing no more. Harry mentally berated himself over not knowing that Caleb was his and Hermione's son…how could have he been so clueless? The signs were there, signaling to both Harry and Hermione that he was their son from the future, yet they didn't know.

Suddenly, Caleb's face started to turn an ashen gray. Slowly but surely, Harry watched in shock as Caleb's body slowly turned to ash, becoming no more, as it sunk into the ground, erasing any physical evidence that a teenager named Caleb ever existed in this time era in the woods of Twrill's Center.

A rapid movement behind Harry altered him that something was wrong. He turned his head and saw that the great, white tiger leaped up into the air, with the net still hanging over him, as it swung its mighty paw at Hermione. She didn't have time to react as the tiger's claws slashed her chest before ripping into her face.

"HERMIONE!"

Harry could only yell as her mangled shirt fell onto the ground, while thick streams of blood flew into the air. She fell backwards, her eyes closed, and splashed into the river behind her.

Harry's mind was on nothing more than to save Hermione. Pointing his wand at the white tiger, Harry bellowed out, " _STUPEFY!_ " A jet of red light hit the tiger as it fell over onto its side, with a final whimper.

Running with all of his speed past the fallen tiger, Harry jumped into the river, finding that it was ankle-deep, as he sprinted over to Hermione's body which was floating face-down in the river's waters.

He quickly turned her over, and instantly, his hands and arms were covered in her blood.

"Hermione, Hermione, can you hear me," Harry quickly asked, as terror surged through him. He looked down upon her and saw that her left cheek was completely missing, while parts of her nose were as well. She had claws marks that raced up her exposed chest to her neck, as her wounds resembled waterfalls of blood. Worst of all, Harry realized that Hermione wasn't breathing.

He picked her up in his arms and apparated away, not knowing whether Hermione would live or die.

* * *

The next couple of days passed by for Harry in a mere blur. He ate only when he had to…he spoke only when spoken to…he thought only when it was about Hermione. Healer Jones told Harry that Hermione's chances of survival were slim yet Harry refused to give up hope that she would be alright, even though a voice deep inside his head told him that Hermione would not last, and that any second, she would take her final breath.

Rainer Tallis was a man no more, as directly after Harry apparated to St. Mungo's and left Hermione in the hands of the healers, he went back to Twrill's Center and brought Rainer with him to the Ministry where he had sent an owl to Mr. Weasley to meet him in the atrium as soon as possible to deal with an emergency. Not even a day later, Rainer was sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss.

Harry should have felt immense relief that Rainer was no longer a threat to Hermione, yet seeing Hermione lying in a hospital bed, her face and chest heavily bandaged, he could not bring himself to breathe normally.

Harry swore to himself that he would keep Hermione safe no matter what confronted them. He needed her to be safe from any harm. Yet, he could not do it…he could not keep her safe. No matter how many times he rebuked himself, it never seemed to be enough…in fact, nothing else seemed to matter to Harry then; the only thing that mattered was for Hermione to wake up.

One day, Ron visited him, by way of his dad telling him that Hermione had been seriously injured. He didn't ask for what happened to Hermione, and quite frankly, Harry wasn't up to tell him what happened that fateful night. He sat by Hermione's bed, and just stared at her, this being the second time she was seriously injured over the past month, ever since the Battle of Hogwarts had concluded.

For their part, Harry noted that neither Mrs. Weasley nor Ginny visited St. Mungo's, yet Harry didn't find it in himself to really care what they did or what they thought. His sole purpose was to be there when Hermione woke up…she would wake up, Harry told himself over and over again…she couldn't die, could she?

* * *

The door opened to his room while Harry sat in a chair beside Hermione's bed.

"How's she doing, Harry," Mr. Weasley's voice came from behind him.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he replied quietly without taking his eyes off of Hermione's form, "The same, maybe a bit better, but not much, according to Healer Jones."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Mr. Weasley wave his wand and conjure a chair for himself next to Harry before he sat down with a heavy sigh.

"This got way out of hand much too fast," Mr. Weasley noted quietly, as if not to disturb Hermione's slumber. "I reckon you found out about Caleb," he asked, turning sideways to glance at Harry.

"Yeah, I found out about him, but I don't think Hermione did," he commented, "though I'm sure she would've figured it out before long."

"I was shocked myself when he came to me, telling me he was from the future," Mr. Weasley revealed, "I didn't believe him at first."

"What did he say to you to make you believe him, then," Harry questioned softly, the hurt still burning in his chest over Caleb's death.

"It wasn't anything he said, but it was what I saw in him."

When Mr. Weasley didn't elaborate, Harry turned to look at him as he asked, "What did you see in him?"

At this, a small smile appeared on Mr. Weasley's face as he answered simply, "You and Hermione." He paused for a short minute before he continued, "I saw your bravery in him, when he jumped at the chance to stay in Twrill's Center as a sort of spy for me to find out about what went on in that place, and I also saw some of your obsessiveness in him as well, mainly concerning Rainer. But, I also could see Hermione's intellect shine through him, as he pieced together the mystery of Twrill's Center as well as seeing her determination and focus in him too."

"Do you know how he came back to the present? All Rainer said was that his time-turner he used to see into the future malfunctioned and Caleb was brought back," Harry said.

"I don't know," Mr. Weasley responded, shaking his head from side to side slightly. "Rainer's time-turner to see into the future is the first of its kind, and hopefully will be the last, as well. It's cruel, though, how little time you got to spend with him, even if he wasn't supposed to exist in this era."

"Do you know what happens to people that…d-die in the past when they are from the future," Harry asked, not knowing if he wanted to hear the answer.

Mr. Weasley fell silent at his question, as Harry guessed his reply wouldn't be anything good.

"I'm not sure, Harry, as I haven't studied time-travel all that much. But, if I'm to be honest with you, I don't think it's anything good. I'm sorry."

With another heavy sigh, Mr. Weasley patted Harry's shoulder twice before he stood to his feet, and left Harry and Hermione alone once again.

A hollowness stretched itself inside of Harry, thinking about Caleb's death and what repercussions it would have on his future…on his and Hermione's future. Staring over at Hermione's motionless form, a wave of depression washed over him, as he laid his head upon Hermione's bed and wept.

* * *

The following day, Harry was holding one of Hermione's hands in both of his, tracing small circles against it, while staring up at her still heavily-bandaged face.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry pleaded softly over to her, "please wake up. Please wake up…I need you with me."

When she didn't respond, he sighed, and lay his head back down upon her bed. Although Harry could've gone home to sleep in much more comfortable accommodations, he was unwilling to leave Hermione's side, no matter how long it took for her to wake up, _if she wakes up_ , the small voice inside Harry's head added distastefully.

Suddenly, Harry felt a gentle touch move through his messy hair. He stilled, not knowing if this was a dream he was having or whether it was a mirage of sorts, due to his lack of sleep over the past several days.

Slowly, Harry lifted his head as he still felt the gentle touch move through his hair; it felt too good to part with.

His bright, green eyes then met the warm, brown ones of an awoken Hermione, her hand caressing his wild hair. They smiled at one another, as a tidal wave of elation crashed over him, nearly leaving him completely winded.

"Harry," she breathed out.

"Hermione," was his only response.

The pair continued to gaze at one another in silence, no words spoken between them, for no words were needed at that moment. Recovery would come in time, Harry thought to himself, but for now, all Harry wanted to do was to stare at Hermione, capturing her image at this specific point in time, a time in which he had never been more relieved in his life, a time in which he had never been happier in his life, a time with Hermione.

* * *

 **EPILGOUE**

Harry softly shut the door behind him, as he traveled down the staircase and walked into the living room. He looked up at the green Christmas tree that was situated in one corner of the room, layered with multi-colored lights that were flashing merrily, with a pile of presents under it, while a thin layer of frost covered the front windows. Green and silver holly was slung around the roaring fireplace in which five brightly-colored stockings hung from.

Harry then spotted a mane of bushy hair seated on one of the couches in front of the fire, her knees curled under her, wearing a gray sweater, with a steaming mug of hot chocolate between her hands.

He walked around the couch and sat next to her, grabbing his own mug of hot chocolate in his hands and taking a small sip of it.

"I love those girls to death, but I can't say that I don't like it when they go to sleep," Harry said quietly, his gaze trailing over to the brightly-colored Christmas tree again.

"Harry, you can't honestly think that Ella and Fay are sleeping right now, do you? It's Christmas Eve! Besides, they've seen what's under the tree…I can't believe how many things you got for the two of them this year," Hermione scolded, though Harry could see mirth in her eyes.

Harry shrugged his shoulders as he said, "Well, Ella's heading off to Hogwarts next year, and Fay will be going two years later. Our kids are growing up too fast, Hermione. I don't even know where the time went."

Hermione smiled over at him as he held out his arm for her, gesturing for her to snuggle against him on this cold night in Godric's Hollow, in which she easily complied.

"I don't know where the time went, Harry, but even though Ella and Fay are getting older, we still have this one on the way," Hermione coaxed to him, patting her growing stomach softly.

"And how is my third baby girl doing in there," Harry questioned, bending his head down to speak to Harry and Hermione's unborn child.

"She sure is kicking a lot more than Ella or Fay ever did," Hermione responded.

Harry smiled at this comment before he said, "I can't wait to meet her. I can't believe it really…three kids running around Potter's Cottage?"

"Too much for Harry Potter to handle," Hermione asked.

"Actually, it's not enough," he responded in which Hermione gave him a pointed look.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying," she questioned.

"Well what do you think I'm saying, Hermione?"

"Don't be silly, Harry. We both know what you implied," she responded, to which Harry smirked over at her.

"I dunno, four kids running around Potter's Cottage sound better than three, but that's just my opinion," Harry remarked, pulling Hermione tighter into his side.

"It's not something to think about right now. I mean, we only have one more month before this one's due," Hermione commented back, rubbing her stomach. "But what do you think, Harry, about adding one more girl to a house that's already full of them?"

Harry looked over at Hermione before he pulled in and kissed her forehead. "I wouldn't give it up for anything. Besides, when you think about it, we already did meet a son of ours from a different timeline, back a long time ago."

At his words, both Harry and Hermione looked over to the fireplace where they looked at each one in turn: one for Harry, the next for Hermione, the following one for Ella, another one for Fay, with the final stocking bearing the names of Caleb and Cassie.

Harry briefly remembered how happy he and Hermione were when they found out they were having twins, a boy and girl, shortly after they married one another. It was a depressing blow, however, when Hermione miscarried, losing both children along the way. Many tears were shed from both Harry and Hermione, after the loss of both Caleb and Cassie, children of theirs they would never have the opportunity to raise themselves.

It was during this time that both Harry and Hermione nearly fell apart, both dealing with their sadness by burying themselves in their work: Harry worked extended hours in the Department of Mysteries, while Hermione diverted her heartache into initiating laws concerning the welfare of house-elves in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. They spoke minimally to each other for nearly four months, until the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley, signed into law the House-Elf Beneficial Act of 2005, which required better living and working conditions for all house-elves in magical Britain, along with enabling the creatures extended periods of vacations if the house-elves chose to take one.

Harry and Hermione made up soon afterwards, deciding it would be best to move on from the loss of Caleb and Cassie, and try to start their futures together. Ella came along a year later, while Fay came two years after.

Now, sitting with Hermione snuggled up into his side, with his two daughters supposedly sleeping upstairs, with another baby girl on the way, Harry couldn't be any happier. This is what he always wanted, a family to love and cherish and it almost seemed too good to be true that he finally had it. With the warmth of the fire protecting them on this cold winter night, Harry kissed Hermione's forehead again, while his mind started to churn over ideas on exactly how he would persuade Hermione to have a go at another child. What Harry didn't know was that Hermione didn't need any cajoling, for the Potter family soon housed seven people, six of them being girls.

"I love you, Harry," Hermione said, looking up at him.

Just as the snow started falling outside the windows of Potter's Cottage, Harry looked straight into Hermione's warm, brown eyes and replied, "I love you too, Hermione."

The End

A WizardWriting Story


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